


Moonless Dream & Open Fields

by rideswraptors



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Al Potter/Delilah Finnigan, F/M, Focus on Jily and Scorose, Gen, OC-Delilah Finnigan, OC-Donnie MacMillan, OC-Frank Longbottom, back and forth fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6798727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideswraptors/pseuds/rideswraptors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a little experimental, so bear with me. A focus on James/Lily in their last years at Hogwarts, and on Scorpius/Rose during their last years at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic jumps from 1977-78 to 2016-19 focusing on similar issues between the featured couples. Some of the similarities may come across a little forced, but whatever. I've set up another quartet of friends: Al Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Donnie MacMillan, and Frank Longbottom to mirror the Marauders. Al & Scorpius are Slytherins and Donnie & Frank are Hufflepuffs. Rose is in Gryffindor. 
> 
> I'm trying to do an even mix of both ships, but some chapters may focus on one relationship more than the other.

In 1977, James Fleamont Potter was fluffing up his hair while telling Quinn Hollander, “I mean, you really are a very nice girl, but…”

*

In 2016, James Sirius Potter was fluffing up his hair in a manner eerily similar to his namesake while telling Sarah McLaggen, “I mean, you’re a really cool girl and everything…”

*

In 1977, James Fleamont Potter got slapped in the face.

*

In 2016, James Sirius Potter got slapped in the face.

*

In their respective times, both Jameses flopped onto the very same overstuffed red armchair that graced the Gryffindor common room. In 1974, James Fleamont had stuffed a dirty sock he’d charmed under the seat cushion. James Sirius found it in 2010 after a particularly long day during his first week.

*

In 1977, a girl with pale skin, green eyes, and gleaming red hair stood over James Fleamont with a smirk on her lips, “You’re an idiot.”

*

In 2016, a girl with pale skin, green eyes, and gleaming red hair stood over James Sirius with a smirk on her lips, “You’re an idiot.”

Everyone said that Lily Luna Potter was the spitting image of her grandmother.

Everyone said that James Sirius Potter made his namesakes seem like innocent little babies.

Minerva McGonagall sneered at those people.

They were menaces, the both of them, and they knew it. Not only had they been mentored by a horde of clever and fun-loving older cousins, but they were _Harry Potter’s_ kids. Trouble and sass came to them naturally. And for James, this usually meant that his love life became a little…unruly.

“So what was wrong with this one?” his baby sister asked dutifully, making herself comfortable on the arm of his chair.

“She’s completely _mad_ , Li Lu.” And so Lily listened to her brother rant about his latest romantic failure, and laughed at him a good deal too, before she stated her real reason for seeking him out. Even as she said it, she tried to remain casual, examining her manicure, trying to even out one particular nail.

“Al’s on the warpath again.” James shuddered.

Albus Severus Potter, the first Slytherin in his family, was exactly the kind of boy his father would have been had Tom Riddle never come to power. Growing up in a big family surrounded by doting adults and happy cousins, he’d thrived as the easy-going, but resourceful, boy he was. His marks were average, but he knew everything about everyone, and reveled in that power he held. But this all meant that Al was laidback and that it was supremely difficult to upset him. James was truly one of the few who ever managed it, but ever since his baby brother got a wand, he’d backed off somewhat. Because, much like their father, Al Potter was a bloody nightmare when angry. And lately there was really only one thing that made their brother angry.

“Who was it this time?” James asked with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Louis and Fred. Stuck him to his seat in Divination.” James groaned. “I know.”

“If anybody should be messing with Malfoy, it’s me.”

“I know.”

“And we called a truce. Everyone agreed.”

“Yes, but it’s Louis and Fred. They don’t give a damn about anyone’s rules.”

“It’s not about rules!” he near-shrieked, “It’s the principle of the thing! We gave our _word_!”

“Don’t lecture me!” she grumbled defensively, “I didn’t bloody ruin his school robes.”

“It’s like the second Vix leaves, total anarchy!” Which was, technically speaking, not true. Victoire Weasley had graduated three years before. And while James middled in the line-up of Weasley-Potters, he had the most charisma, and was best able to keep them all in line. They didn’t make his job any easier by going rogue! Lily patted his head sympathetically, but really, it did nothing for him. If Al was all riled up, there would be nothing to prevent a full-scale inter-house war (and Al would do it too, without hesitation or remorse, no matter who he was related to).

To date, there was only one known thing that Al Potter could not abide: his family bullying Scorpius Malfoy. He expected it from other people, and went after those _others_ with a vengeance when the situation called for it, but he expected more from his own family. Scorpius was his best friend. Had been since meeting at the Feast after being sorted into Slytherin. Al considered him to be a part of his family, and he didn’t give a damn as to what his blood relatives thought of that. James sat up straight and clapped his hands to his knees.

“Right! First things first, send Rose to Malfoy. I need the skinny on this as quick as possible. Tell Roxy she’s in charge of suitable punishment for Lou and Freddie. She always was more creative. And make sure they’re off the schedule for the Map. If they’re gonna go rogue, then they don’t get to play.”

“What about Al?”

He sighed heavily, “Leave our dearest brother to me, Li Lu. I’ll think of something. Always do.”

 

Rose Weasley, in her fifth year, was top of her class, keeper for the Gryffindor team, and decidedly _not_ a prefect (which her father congratulated her on, loudly). And in spite of what everyone thought, she was not as smart as her mother nor was she as brave and kind as her father. She was just Rose. Rose Minerva Weasley, who had a bunch of famous relatives and too many redheaded cousins. And there were only three people in the world who really, truly understood this: Uncle Harry, Al, and Scorpius Malfoy. Uncle Harry had a way of explaining things to his nieces and nephews, had a way of making them feel special and unique all on their own. He understood what she was feeling so well because that’s how _he’d_ been treated when he started school. All of these people knew about him and his parents and all these things that happened that really had nothing to do with who he was. So he made an effort for the children in his life. Al was constantly, _constantly_ compared to his heroically famous father, and it didn’t help that they looked just alike. And then there was Scorpius, Al’s opposite but equivalent, the miniature version of an infamous father who was generally avoided by wizarding society. They knew just how she felt.

Which made it particularly difficult when her idiotic cousins took it upon themselves to bully and prank Scorpius. Rose wasn’t nearly as angry as Al, but then again, she didn’t hold the Weasley-Potters to the same high standards that he did. And at least this time it was only Freddie and Lou, who were unfathomable prats to the nth degree, instead of the whole clan. Al spent Easter hols with the Malfoys the last time all of them had been involved. Sans Rose, of course.

As she made her way to the greenhouses, slightly irritated at being treated like some kind of errand-girl for the likes of James Potter, she mused that it really was absurd that her cousins bothered Scorpius at all. It would have been one thing if he were rude or arrogant or ever said anything cruel about a person, but Rose was convinced that there wasn’t an aggressive bone in his body. Oh sure, he was a little superior and snooty sometimes, but not about anything important. He wasn’t even a Quidditch player like everyone had expected him to be. Knew the game better than anyone else, but he didn’t play for Slytherin or anything. He claimed he was too cerebral for that, which always made Al scowl. Al insisted that Scorpius was, actually, very, very good, but couldn’t be buggered to leave the greenhouses long enough to practice. Donnie MacMillan and Frank Longbottom, both Hufflepuffs and Scorpius and Al’s best mates, agreed. They were the Hufflepuff beaters, and swore up and down that they’d like to take on a chaser like Scorpius just for the hell of it.

Which was why, when checking the Map, Rose was hardly surprised to discover that’s where he was. More than anything in the world, Scorpius loved being outdoors. His favorite classes were Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, not to mention Muggle Studies. He was the antithesis of any Slytherin you’ve ever met, but he always said the same thing: He was a Malfoy, therefore he was a Slytherin. Pushing the door open with a small smile on her face, Rose realized the same could probably be said about most Weasleys. On a whole, Scorpius was very well liked by most of the student population. He was kind and polite, and generally just boring enough to avoid any real scrutiny. But she supposed that’s the way he liked it. Any real attention he got was bullying. Al, Donnie, and Frank never took this very well. Scorpius’ cavalier attitude to the whole thing enraged them; which is why they’d garnered a reputation of being his body guards. As a rule, people didn’t like messing with Frank. Like Al, he was the youngest of three and walked around with a chip on his shoulder because his father worked at his school. He was the polar opposite of his father: aggressive, abrasive, and undeniably a rebel. Frank was athletic and charming, burly and loud, like his father absolutely wasn’t. He found Scorpius’ rule-abiding passivity thoroughly annoying, but would be the first to admit that he’d never cross the young Malfoy for fear of his bad side. Donnie went along with whomever he thought was in the right that particular day. When Scorpius and Frank got into it, Donnie sided with Al, who was usually preoccupied with rolling his eyes and chasing the snitch he regularly nicked from the gear shed. After fighting with his friends, Scorpius could predictably be found hiding out in the greenhouses.

Scorpius, wearing gloves that nearly reached his shoulders, was bent over a work station tending to what looked to be Venomous Tentacula. Sixth years had just started working with them, but the Headmaster gave Scorpius special permission to do as he liked in the greenhouses. Naturally, Professor Eart, used him as an assistant whenever he could. Scorpius’ brows were furrowed together as he maneuvered prudently around the plant, deftly avoiding its reach. Rose moved judiciously into his line of vision so as to not startle him.

“Just a sec, Ro,” he said evenly, not looking up at her. Sometimes she marveled at his concentration; Rose really only could ever focus like that during Potions. She was pants at everything else. Once he had finished and removed the plant to a safer venue, Rose thought it would be okay to start.

“Al told me what happened.” Scorpius, taking his gloves off, shrugged languidly, his face not betraying any kind of emotion. Cool customer, he was. You had to be really specific to get a straight answer out of him. “He told me what Fred and Louis did during Divination.” With a sigh, Scorpius tossed his gloves into the closest tub, rested his hands on his hips, and cocked his head at her in exasperation. “He’s upset. Are you not upset?” She saw his shoulders sag just the smallest amount. “Because it’s fine if you are.”

“They’re your cousins, Ro. Golden children besides, what do you expect me to do?”

“ _Golden children_?” she echoed, stiffening defensively. Scorpius tossed his hands up, and went back to sorting through his tools and materials. “No! Tell me what you mean.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he snapped looking over his shoulder.

“Know what?”

“You all have the name and the hair and are the apples of the Headmaster’s eye. Not even _Frank_ gets away with half the shite you lot do and his father runs the ruddy school! I am almost universally scorned because of what my father did and I’ll never live it down no matter how hard I try.” She froze at the mention of his father. Scorpius didn’t talk much about his father, or his family for that matter. “When one of you Weasleys or Potters start messing someone about or fuck up colossally, it’s all brushed aside, cleaned up, and waved off. If _I_ do it? If I retaliate? Then guess what, it’s just genetics, that’s how I am. I’m just _bad_.”

“But you’re not!” she shouted wildly, not wanting to listen to it anymore. “And I’m not treated special liked that at all.”

“That’s such bullshit and you know it. You could drop out, run off with bikers, steal your family fortune and everyone would still think you were Merlin’s gift to magic.”

“That’s not true!”

He sighed, ad turned to lean against the table with his arms crossed over his chest, “Maybe I’m exaggerating, but my point is valid.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Rose, when was the last time you served a real detention?” She had to think about it. “When’s the last time a teacher called you out about _anything_?”

“It’s not like I’m always making trouble.”

“No, but you were late to Charms last week. Flitwick didn’t say a word. If it had been me, I would’ve had points taken away.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. It’s happened. But you’re Hermione Granger’s daughter, and she was his favorite, and everybody knows it.”

Rose deflated almost immediately. It was fairly common knowledge that she had a nasty temper, especially when one considered who her parents were. So most of the time, people went out of their way to avoid an argument with her. Even Al. They claimed it “wasn’t worth it” to get her all pushed out of shape. They said she argued about everything which _wasn’t true_. Yes, she questioned a lot of things and didn’t take everything at face value, but not everything was meant to be an argument.  Sometimes…very occasionally…Rose just didn’t know how to talk without getting loud or defensive. The one glaring exception to the “don’t argue with Rose” rule was Scorpius. He didn’t seem to take any notice of the usual warning signs and had no problem clarifying or repeating himself when she got upset. And usually he wasn’t snide about it. He usually wasn’t so…defeated.

“I’m not my mother,” she retorted meekly, clenching her fists.

“And I’m not my father and Al’s not his, and Frank and Donnie aren’t theirs, and we can go around in circles, but it all leads back to the same place. Here. We’re still on opposite sides, Rose, so we might as well get used to it.” They stared at each other for a long moment. “You should go back to your cousins.”

“I’m not on anybody’s _side_ , Scorpius, except for my own.”

“You’re telling me that one of your cousins didn’t send you down here to assess the damage?”

Her face burned. “We’re friends, I would have come to find you anyway. And besides, James isn’t any happier about it than Al is!” She stamped her foot in frustration, “Than I am!” She felt the tears start to prick at her eyes. It had always been this way with them, from the beginning. Their classmates were cruel and relentless when it came to the Malfoy reputation, even more so because he didn’t seem to be living up to it. Scorpius took the ridicule and the taunting with the air of someone wholly unaffected by his surroundings. Rose looked on absolutely furious that people thought they could treat others so awfully without repercussions.

Even still, it had taken Rose a few years to come around to the idea of Scorpius Malfoy. They hadn’t had much to do with each other until the beginning of fourth year. Before that, they were just academic rivals. He was Al’s best friend and Al was her best friend, so she occasionally had to endure his annoying presence during meals or free time. Because he had been _very_ annoying. He never got angry or shocked or scared. He always looked put together and perfect. He spoke very evenly and logically, brooking no room for argument. Among his rebellious and cantankerous friends, he was the cool voice of reason, unfazed and unfussed by their proclivity for chaos and confrontation. And it was _infuriating_. Rose was a mess. Her tie never stayed in a knot, her hair flew in every direction, her voice occasionally got nasally and shrill. Sometimes she didn’t even know what the hell was coming out of her mouth.  She was always flustered and up in arms about something, and everyone was constantly teasing her for it. So no, the cool, calm, and collected Scorpius Malfoy with his goddamn color coded notes did not appeal to her at all. But in the beginning of last year, something had changed. Maybe she was less of a chaotic mess or maybe she just grew up a little and realized that his tidy perfection wasn’t actually meant to antagonize her. She didn’t really know. But when they were paired up for potions, they hit it off right away. They worked together in sync, prepping, adding, stirring in perfect time with the other. He was all precision and she was all about her intuition, and so they were perfectly complementary partners. It turned out that this held true for their other classes as well. Soon, they were talking and debating like they’d been friends for years. It was so bad that Al occasionally complained that he was the third wheel, being usurped as their favorite person. Scorpius teased him ruthlessly, seeing as he’d spent most of the previous three years begging them to be friendly.

“I don’t want to argue,” he told her quietly, rubbing at some dirt on his sheers.

“You always say that we have discussions, not arguments.”

“This isn’t like that. This is going to be an argument, and I don’t want to have it.”

“Why?” he looked down and shrugged. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you tell me this instant or we _are_ going to have an argument and _you will_ lose,” she snapped. If Al were there, he would have shuddered, and told her that she sounded too much like her mother. Which was true. Rose Weasley had her father’s temper and her mother’s tone, and it was usually a deadly combination. Scorpius lifted his gray eyes up to her, mightily unimpressed with her intimidation tactics, but looking like he was going to cave anyway.

“I don’t want to make you choose.”

Rose narrowed her eyes, feeling her nostrils flare. “Explain.” She watched his throat work down a swallow before he answered.

“If we start getting into this now. _This_ being the very foundational differences between our families and how we were raised, the differences in how people respond to our respective names, then…We don’t have to do it so much here, you know? There aren’t parents or reporters or…stupid relatives mucking everything up…” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s just that _here_ at school we can be friends, but beyond that…I’m terrified of losing you. Of losing Al and Frank and Donnie…I’d just like to hold onto it for as long as possible if that’s all right.”

“Scorpius…” she took an aborted step in his direction.

He waved her off, “No. Please? Don’t, okay?” When Rose saw the tears welling up in his eyes, she’d had it. She all but ran to close the distance between them, throwing her arms around his neck so he’d be forced to hug her. Scorpius wasn’t good with physical affection; he really was a stupidly awkward boy. But Rose made routine strides to inoculate him to it. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, standing on tip toe so that she could reach his height. Damn pubescent growth spurts. She didn’t have to wait long for his arms to wind around her back or his nose to tuck into the side of her head.

“Al’s far too in love with you to leave you now,” she teased wetly, feeling herself get a little teary-eyed as well. His chuckle was gratifying and it soothed her a little. “And our family will never make us choose between you and them. They can’t. If we love you they have to love you too. It’s like…in the bylaws or something.” She knew he was going to argue so she pinched the back of his neck, making him laugh. “Fred and Louis are stupid. They’re always playing stupid pranks on everybody. The only reason they haven’t got me and Al this year is because we’ve been hyper alert. Trust me, James is really gonna get it once they find out Roxy’s in charge of punishment.” He pulled back to look at her skeptically.

“James is gonna punish them for pranking a Slytherin?”

She shrugged, “There was a truce.”

He shook his head, looking ruefully over her shoulder, “ _Weasleys_.”

“Oi, it’s Potters too!” He raised his brows. “Okay, mostly Weasleys, but still.” She still had one hand on his shoulder, but she used the other to brush back an errant curl near his left ear that never wanted to stay in place. He claimed his mum’s hair was really curly too. “And all that other stuff…well, we’ve been dealing with reporters all our lives, and mum does a good job at scaring them into submission. As for my parents,” she bobbled her head looking him playfully in the eye, “Mum’s the one that runs the show, really. So if I can sway her, dad’s putty in my hands.”

“And mine?”

She shrugged again, “Well, if I hear right, then he will be absurdly grateful that you’ve latched onto a Potter and a Weasley. It’s very good political maneuvering, don’t you know, especially for that big real estate deal he’s trying to pull off in Knockturn Alley.”

“How do you even know about that?”

“I hear things.”

“You hear them eavesdropping, you mean.”

“But I still hear them, so it’s valid information.” He snorted, not dignifying that with a response. “We’re always going to be friends. Fuck everyone else.”   



	2. Chapter 2

In 1977, Lily Evans was wishing that she wasn’t such an idiot and wondered, even as Benjy Fenwick’s cousin, Chad, blathered on about his future career in the Ministry while they sat in Three Broomsticks, where her friends were and how much fun they were having without her. Mary, Dorcas, and Marlene always knew how to have a good time and make her laugh.

 *

In 2018, Rose Weasley was wishing she wasn’t such an idiot and wondered, even as Duncan Nash blathered on about all the Quidditch teams scouting him while they sat in Three Broomsticks, where her friends were and who she let convince her that this was a good idea. Easy. Erin, Mallory, and Cora. Honestly, she had to stop letting her dorm mates talk her into these barmy situations.

 *

In 1977, Lily Evans was diverted by a loud crash as Sirius Black and James Potter knocked over a table while they wrestled. Peter Pettigrew, perched on a still-standing stool, watched, bored, whilst sipping on his butterbeer. Remus Lupin was scowling, and sauntered over when he picked Lily out of the crowd. “What’s happening?” she asked him, a little bit concerned. James and Sirius were best mates, and all. Brawling in public just wasn’t on for best mates.

 *

In 2018, Rose Weasley was distracted by an uproar of laughter as a crowd of redheads barreled through the door. A shock of blond hair and a messy head of black hair soon followed them. She watched James, Fred, and Louis, all graduated and visiting, bend over holding their sides while trying to speak with Al and Scorpius. Not far behind them were Frank, Donnie, Lily, and Lysander, also red-faced from laughing. Catching her eye, Al made his way over. “What did they do?” she hissed at Al, who wasn’t holding back his grin very well.

 *

In 1977, Remus Lupin let out a bark of laughter at her concern. “They,” he told her, plopping in the seat next to her, completely disregarding her date’s annoyance, “are discussing the best method of removing a mate from an awkward situation.”

“Oh really?” Lily asked airily, while Fenwick pointed out that there didn’t seem to be much discussion happening.

“Oh, Chaddie-boy, it’s a real subtle art form, they’ve got. Prongs will pull Padfoot’s hair right about—” He lifted a finger to the sound of Sirius’ outraged shriek and nodded very sagely. “And then Padfoot will—” he rolled out his hand to the sound of James’ shrill _Don’t you fucking dare!_ Lily looked mightily impressed, but Fenwick wasn’t amused.

“Isn’t Potter Head Boy? Shouldn’t he be behaving in a more—” He was cut off by the sound of a very subtle explosion and the tavern filling with white smoke.

“Oh look,” Remus said drolly, taking Lily by the arm, “there’s our cue.”

“What?” she laughed even as she let him drag her off through a back entrance to the tavern. The smoke was so thick that she couldn’t see her hand in front of her, let alone where her date had gone. People were torn between shouting and laughing, knocking into one another (and the furniture) while Madame Rosmerta shrieked that she was going to murder someone. However, Remus guided her safely through without so much as a bump on her shoulder or a stub to her toe. When they were in the free and clear, in an alley behind the tavern, Lily doubled over, coughing and laughing.

“Remus Lupin, you really are brilliant, you know that?”

“Oi!” James Potter called, swaggering out of the door they’d just exited from with Peter at his side, “Don’t be giving him all the credit. Was my idea after all.” Sirius Black came stumbling out of the door, hands batting at his eyes and coughing. His friends berated him for lingering in the after effects. Apparently he’d only done so to snog Madame Rosmerta.

 *

In 2018, Al Potter plopped into the seat next to his cousin, ignoring her date completely.

“ _They_ didn’t do anything, oh cousin mine. _Scorpius_ did.”

Her jaw dropped. “You’re lying.”

“Not a whit. Remember that canary spell your mum used on Uncle George last Christmas?”

“Oh no.”

“Oh _yes_. Hugo taught it to Scorpius who figured out how to amplify it and just cast it on the ever-charming Bole who had some lovely commentary on blood purity.”

“Ah.”

“Sent him right off to the Shrieking Shack with a fleet of birds in his wake.”

“The _Shack_?” Duncan choked, “But it’s…. _haunted_.” The cousins shared a quick glance at that. Al arched one of his beautiful eyebrows, stating very clearly: My pseudo-older brother would laugh and howl like a bloody fucking wolf if he were here right now. Teddy always howled whenever someone started talking about the Shrieking Shack’s illustrious history; he claimed it was to honor the fallen.

“Ro..?” Apparently the other Weasley-Potters’ ears perked up at the sound of her nickname. Once James spotted her, it was all over. He herded the whole lot of them over to her. And it wasn’t just the boys and Lily anymore. It was _all_ of them, sans Teddy and Vix. They called out to her, grabbing chairs and an extra table as they swarmed her little four-top she shared with Duncan. Domi, Molly, Lucy, and Roxy ducked over to hug and kiss her cheeks before settling in. Lysander, who had just been joined by Lorcan, took the seat next to Duncan, politely asking if he could move over a little. Lily flung herself onto Lysander’s lap, treating him more like a seat than a boyfriend. Lorcan took the seat on the other side of Duncan, _pulling_ his new girlfriend into his lap, and promptly started snogging her without so much as a by your leave. Domi and Molly pulled up chairs on the other side of Rose, immediately launching into a debate about Three Broomsticks versus their local in muggle London. Lucy and Roxy sat on the other side of Al, asking him to dish on all the new gossip he’d heard because Al knew _everyone_ and _everyone_ told him things about their friends and cousins and siblings. He was a hub of useless information.  Hugo was standing off to the side, smoking near the window, much to everyone’s displeasure. James, Fred, Louis, and Scorpius, who had only recently grown accustomed to each other, set up shop at the end of the table, conducting a post-mortem of their latest Slytherin encounter. Apparently, they’d decided that Scorpius was an honorary Gryffindor, and were piling questions on Donnie and Frank about Scorpius’ secret evil side. Her cousins were _loud_ and disruptive. As they settled in and Louis called the new waitress over, the group earned looks and side-eyes from the tavern’s patrons. Some were amused, some were not. Rose obviously didn’t have any control over it, though, because as they garnered more attention, more of their friends stopped by, pulling up chairs and pushing tables together. Allie and Augusta Longbottom (although Allie was hanging off of James like a cloak), Delilah and Sean Finnigan, Marie, Todd (Molly’s boyfriend and teammate for Puddlemere), and Jessie Wood, Sage Mason (Cho Chang’s eldest), Elias Boot (who kept blushing whenever Lucy smiled at him), Constance Bletchley, Cora Elton (daughter of Alicia Spinnet and one of Rose’s dormmates), and about a dozen or so other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who were only friendly terms with the Weasly-Potters. Most of them had already graduated too. It was sheer madness.

“RoRo, your boyfriend here,” James said loudly, still laughing, “is an artist. We’re keeping him.” Scorpius blushed as James clapped a hand on his opposite shoulder and hugged him.

“Boyfriend?” Duncan spluttered.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” she insisted to Duncan before hurling a fork at her cousin. “ _James_!”

James nodded his head at Duncan in mild annoyance, “Who’s this then?”

“Duncan. My date?”

James’ brow furrowed. “Get rid of him. We’ve got important family business to discuss.” James’ definition of _family business_ was a bit less rigid than he was letting on. They’d grown up with the majority of the enormous group of people surrounding them. In fact, most of them spent a good deal of time at the Burrow, treating Granny Weasley like their own grandmother. Rose was pretty sure that they’d all learned how to de-gnome a garden at the Burrow, actually. _One_ more person certainly wouldn’t hurt anything.

“ _James_!”

“Well!”

“It’s fine. I’m leaving. You’re all mad!” Duncan tried (but failed) to shout over the Weasley-Potter chaos. Duncan left with his hands stuffed in his pockets, not even bothering to leave money for the food. Tosser.

 

In 1977, Lily was trying to comprehend exactly what James and his friends were on about as they explained their plan to save her from her Boring Date of Doom.

“Moony here saw you first…”

“Though, I’m sure birds thousands of meters up in the air could see you too, what with the hair…”

“But I was the one who noticed you looked a little miserable.”

“Prongs is very observant, he is, always noticing.”

“And I said that it was such a pity that boring git didn’t have the imagination to take you somewhere out of doors for a date when the weather’s so fine and you’ve obviously been revising too much.”

“Because really, why let you make the decision for yourself when we could be masters of chaos?”

“So I says, Padfoot, ought’n we alleviate Evans of that boring sod before she dies simply to have something better to do?”

“Naturally, I’d been carrying those smoke bombs around for _ages_ looking for a good play.”

“But one cannot simply throw smoke bombs in a room…”

“So Padfoot and Prongs took to the floor.”

“And _I_ threw them,” Peter said smugly. “Then all old Moony here had to do was whisk you away from Chadders.”

By the end of it, Lily was laughing harder than she should have been. Because really, she was Head Girl, and she shouldn’t have been encouraging them, but they just looked so proud of themselves for their…extremely unsubtle cunning.

“You guys,” she panted out, “are idiots.” They grinned at each other in congratulations, “But very perceptive idiots.” She clapped Remus on the shoulder. “Thank you, because I really didn’t know how to tell Chad that I had no clue what he’d been saying for an hour.” They all shared a good laugh at this, and then proceeded to escort her to better pastures.

“But where are we going?”

“To our spot,” Sirius told her very seriously.

Remus cut her off before she could say anything, “It’s between the Lake and the forest. Before you say anything, yes it violates some school rules, but really, I don’t think anyone would care overly much.” With no further plans for the day, Lily threaded her arms through Remus’ and Sirius’ and skipped down the lane.

 *

In 2018, Rose almost had butterbeer coming out of her nose as James recounted their latest exploits in the Auror’s office. He and Domi were causing such an uproar with the training instructors that Uncle Harry was threatening to train them himself. And he was no slouch, as everyone knew. Word was that the more closely related to him, the better you knew him, the harder he put you through the wringer. Very much against playing favorites, Uncle Harry was. Al, catching Delilah Finnigan’s eye, awkwardly rushed off with the excuse of getting everyone refills (which he’d better come back with, the others shouted after him, laughingly). Almost as soon as he emptied the seat next to Rose, Scorpius was filling it. For the first time she noticed that he had a small gash on his forehead and his knuckles were a little bloody. She gasped, picking up his hand and examining it thoroughly, performing a quick _episky_ before anyone else noticed.

“They said you just did an _avis_ ,” she hissed angrily, and she proceeded to check his person for other injuries. He batted her hands away.

“Ro, I’m fine. Honestly. Though the hand feels loads better now, thanks.” She scowled. “Okay, fine. I may have done more than your mum’s _avis_.” He snaked an arm around the back of her chair and she could feel him playing with the ends of her hair. “Abernathy was getting into it with Frank and he may or may not have dragged you into it. And I may or may not have punched him in the nose.”

Rose’s eyes bugged out. Who was this imposter and what had he done with her Scorpius? He laughed when he saw her expression.

“I was just as surprised as you are.”

“But Bole?”

“Went after Al when his back was turned, so I…sent him in the other direction.”

“What’s gotten into you?” she demanded, poking him in the stomach. He leaned back and stretched out, looking over at Lily and Lysander who were still sitting together as innocently as ever. The separation for them had been pretty hard, but he visited as much as possible. And Lysander would never have his brother’s comfort level for public displays, but he looked pretty content to have an arm around the youngest Potter. He refrained from the snogging out of respect to her cousins, but every once in a while he lightly kissed her shoulder or the back of her neck. Rose knew that Lily was trying to get a rise out of James by being so bold with his best mate, but she also looked genuinely pleased to have him so close. Rose wondered what Scorpius saw when he looked at them.

“Can’t blame a bloke for getting sick of listening to the same old diatribe about blood and family,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts. She furrowed her brow.

“But you always say that you have to combat that with logic and rationality, not violence.”

“Well,” he told her grimly, cutting his eyes over at her, which were overwhelmed with softness, “it doesn’t work. But it made me feel better.” Rose felt herself lean into him, felt his arm slip from her chair back to around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“What did he say about me?”

“Hmm?” She felt his response through the rumbling of his chest more than she heard it.

“What did Abernathy say about me that made you so mad?”

“Something ugly and disrespectful. So I did what I thought you would do. I made him eat it.” Rose really wanted to laugh. She really wanted to find it as funny as her cousins did. Because it must have been quite something to see Scorpius Malfoy lose it. But she didn’t find it funny at all. It made her sad and a little scared, and all she wanted to do was hide her friend away from everybody because they were a bunch of berks who upset him.

“Fuck it,” Rose grumbled. She disentangled herself from his grip, earning her an odd look from him. But she ignored it in favor resettling onto his lap, her face tucked into his shoulder. She didn’t even have to wait a beat before his arms were there, around her, keeping her in place. His hand clamped on thick of her thigh possessively, and she could feel his lips at her forehead. For the moment, figuring out whether this was breaking platonic barriers, or more importantly if she cared, was immaterial. Scorpius was holding her, she needed to be held. End of story.

Across the way, James raised a quizzical brow at the sight of her cousin slipping into Scorpius Malfoy’s lap. Nobody else seemed to notice or bat an eye, however. So he caught his little sister’s eye, still a little unsettled to see her perched on his best friend’s knees, and mouthed _Not her boyfriend?_ And jerked his head over to Rose. Lily caught his drift and then looked at him meaningfully and shook her head. _Don’t push_.

 *

In 1977 the Marauders led Lily Evans to a grassy clearing, just near the shore of Black Lake, that was blocked from view of the castle by two large willow trees. The boys wasted no time sprawling out; Remus with a book, Peter with his charmed chess board, and Sirius was looting around one of the trees looking for something. Lily was distracted by how softly beautiful the place was, how sun-filled and quiet, like it had been cut out just to hide a person away. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of James whispering. She whirled around to witness the Head Boy talking to a silvery wisp of a stag, which he stroked between the eyes and under the chin before it darted away. Before it left the clearing completely, it danced around Lily like a ghost, nudging against her and warming her up from the pit of her belly. Pure _happiness_.

Lily gasped as she watched it leave, “Was that your patronus?” When she turned around, James was honest to Merlin blushing, fluffing up his hair like he always did. Lily was just starting to realize that it might be a nervous tic instead of a sign of his conceit.

“Yeah,” he told her, shoving his hands into his pockets. Probably to prevent him from pulling his hair out. “They can carry messages to specific people. Bit more convenient than an owl sometimes.”

“So you sent a message to…?”

“Oh,” his cheeks tinged pink, “the girls.”

“Girls?” They brought girls here? Go figure. She was probably one of a hundred or so they brought back here to…

“Dorcas. And Mary. And Marlene,” he answered with a shrug.

“Oh.”

“I just figured that after a bad date, you’d rather hang out with your friends. And we get kinda boring back here. Remus reads. Sirius sleeps. And you’re lucky if Pete lets you play a game with him.”

“And what do you do?” she asked, clasping her hand behind her back. Things between them had been lighter in these first few months of seventh year. She thinks the switch started happening in the spring, right before summer hols. He’d just…gentled. Like the wind had dropped from his sails and he was drifting calmly on the current. His smirks softened to smiles, his greetings were warmer and less staged. His compliments were still overwrought and completely absurd, but at least he wasn’t offensive or asking her to go out with him anymore.

James flushed again and used his foot to paw at the ground, “Depends, I guess.” His hand went up to his hair again and he turned to look into the forest. Lily smiled, it was kind of amusing to see them so at ease. In the castle it was almost like they had boundless energy, like they fed off the laughter and the adulation. Watching them in repose was a completely different experience. Remus seemed so unself-conscious when it was just the four of them. Sirius was less manic, he even managed to sit still. Peter almost seemed independent, focused on his own task. And James?

Lily looked over at him as her friends, newly arrived from town, swarmed her and dragged her down to the water’s edge to dip their toes in.  James actually seemed to be kind of restless, he was pacing the forest’s edge, toying with something in his hands, a snitch actually. She heard a huff, vaguely reminiscent of a dog’s, and realized it was Sirius, who had his head in Remus’ lap. The two boys were laying up against the bigger of the willow trees, which Remus kindly informed her had been charmed to be the most comfortable reading spot in the world, if she ever fancied a go. Sirius was snuggled into Remus’ side, arms around his legs, but had followed Lily’s staring at his friend.

“The answer’s still yes, you know,” Sirius told her offhandedly. Lily saw Remus lightly rap his hand against Sirius’ forehead in what was meant to be a corrective gesture, but Sirius only stuck his tongue out at him.

“What’s this question, then?” she asked casually, kicking water at Marlene who was debating with Mary about whether or not to strip to their knickers to go swimming.

“ _Padfoot_ …” Remus warned lowly.

“ _Moony_ ,” he sang back, nonplussed. He flipped around to face Lily. “Yes, Jamie-boy is still in love with you.” In a panic, she cut her eyes over to her friends who were still preoccupied with the idea of swimming. Quickly, she got up to go sit closer to where Sirius was sprawled out.

“He is _not_ …” she hissed quietly.

“But he is,” Sirius interrupted with a toss of his hand.

“He can’t…”

“He can.”

“He does _not_.”

“Lily,” Remus sighed in exasperation, flipping a page of his book. “He is. He can. He does.” Sirius sniggered and Remus kicked at him gently, making the boy retaliate by squeezing his legs tighter. Remus smiled wryly but turned his attention to Lily. “The thing is you don’t have to do anything about it. It’s not your problem. But I would recommend figuring out if you want to do something or not, and soon.”

“And why is that?” she asked snootily, not really taking them seriously.

Sirius snorted. “Because he’s starting to realize he loves you enough to get over you, you daft cow.” She gaped at him for a moment, and then turned her gaze back to James, brow furrowed. He was now pestering Peter in his chess game, offering advice and roughly moving pieces regardless of Peter’s protests.

“How can you love someone enough to get over them? Isn’t the point of love to never let that person go?” Lily missed the knowing look between Remus and Sirius. She also missed the way Remus brushed a thumb over the pad of Sirius’ cheek. Which Sirius nipped at.

“You know,” Sirius said loudly, gaining Lily’s attention again, “This is actually Prongs’ place. He never even brought us here until…” Sirius paused, “Well, until we needed it.” She wanted to ask what they could possibly _need_ this place for, but Remus continued.

“His dad told him about it. Apparently he met Mrs. Potter somewhere near here during fourth year.”

“Met, fell in love, probably conceived little baby Jamesie right where you’re sitting.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “You know as well as the rest of us that they were in Bangladesh and nearing fifty when that happened.” Remus flicked his friend’s nose, who wrinkled it up unattractively.

Lily recoiled, “Just _how_ close are you to the Potters?” she asked in bewilderment.

“Euphemia is a lovely woman!” Sirius protested.

“Lovely, charming, and very, very chatty,” Remus admitted a little regretfully.

“ _Anyway_ , the point, my deer,” Remus nearly choked on a laugh, which sounded an awful lot like _pun jar_ , “is that he used to come here alone when he wanted to get away.”

“He’s been coming here a lot more often lately,” Remus murmured. “Stress, I think.”

“Stress?” she echoed skeptically. Did James Potter know what stress was? 

“That badge’s got him all in a tizzy. Then there’s quidditch. Then there’s his several job offers.” Yes, it must be so difficult to have options before you even graduate. “Then there’s dad.”

“Dad?” Merlin, was she a parrot?

“Mr. Potter,” Remus clarified for a suddenly sullen Sirius. “He’s older. Gets sick sometimes. James worries a lot, especially when he’s not with them.”

Sirius snorted, “He _frets_. Worst mother hen you’ve ever met. I kid you not. But Bipsy is a fine little elf. She always takes good care of the old man.” Lily watched Remus’ hand absently go to Sirius’ neck, soothing and gentling. Not for the first time, she wondered what the hell was going on with the two of them.

“The point,” Remus said gently, Sirius had covered his hand with his own now, “is that James loves fiercely. And we…we can’t always watch out for him as we’d like.” Sirius grunted. “It would be nice to know that someone’s taking care of him for a change.”

“Remus…”

“I’m not asking you to be in love with the bloke, Lily, I’m asking you to figure out if you could. And if not, to let him go so someone else can.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of 2018 Hogsmeade scene w/ Scorpius & Rose.

In 2018, the Weasley-Potters and their friends still in school trudged up to the castle. Rose had her arms threaded through Al’s and Scorpius’ as they walked along. That is, until Al spotted Delilah and begged off to go walk with her. Rose saw the girl blush prettily and she shook her head.

“And the golden trio begins to crumble,” she grumbled a little bitterly. Donnie and Frank were up ahead chatting up Cora and her Slytherin cousin, Katie. Calling themselves a “trio” was a bit of an exaggeration, especially since Rose could never quite break into their little group. Rose had never come across a tighter group of boys, not even Fred, Louis, James, and the Scamanders. Al tried to explain it once, tried to tell her what kept them so bound to one another. The root of it seemed to be famous fathers, but the core of their bond was protecting Scorpius. Their schoolmates were a little in awe of the three sons of heroes who had banded together, but they threw it back in their faces by embracing Scorpius like a brother. You’d never find more loyal friends.

“Got something against a quartet?” Scorpius asked nudging her a little and breaking her train of thought. Her starting had caught Frank and Donnie’s attention. They turned to each other in sync, then looked back at her and waved with smarmy smirks on their faces. She stuck her tongue out at them, making them laugh, and nudged Scorpius back.

“No.” He smirked at her. “I don’t know. I’m just not used to sharing him with other girls I guess.”

“Gotta start sometime.”

“Ugghhh, I’ve been usurped as the only woman in his life,” she said with a pout. Donnie and Frank were messing with Al now, sending sparks and smarts over in his direction as he walked and talked with Delilah. Every so often, he’d jerk or jump, and glare over at his friends. Delilah looked concerned, but he kept shaking his head that he was fine, only for the boys to do it again. But then Donnie got overzealous and tripped him too hard; she and Scorpius watched as Al shrieked and shot off in pursuit of Donnie who had already started to flee. Frank doubled over laughing as Delilah came over to ask Cora and Katie what was going on; then Frank, with three girls on his arms, went back to the castle. Scorpius pointed this out to Rose, making her laugh because they could hear Donnie’s yelping not too far away.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Scorpius said when their giggles died down, “You’re the only woman in mine…except my mother,” he added with faux somberness. Rose looked up at him, snaking her arm around his a little tighter. He really did have a great profile. All pretty and aristocratic. Rose looked like most Weasleys did, squat and lumpy.

“It does make me feel better,” she whispered. She watched as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Good.” Merlin, how were they even still walking properly? It was probably due to Scorpius. He was deceptively strong; Al said it was from hauling all those pots around. She shivered.

“Merlin, it’s freezing. Why don’t they let us apparate to town again?”

“Oh, just something about ancient magic warding the castle from apparition.”

“Right.”

“Here,” he said, opening up his cloak to let her in. Rose ducked under the thick fabric to plaster herself to his side, and he wrapped it tight around them. How was he always so warm? It was criminal. They got back to the castle in one piece, just as the sun was going down. Al, Frank, and Donnie, after coming to some kind of truce, informed them they were going down to the kitchens if anyone else wanted to join. With a small smile, Delilah had agreed, taking Al’s hand in hers. Some people went to dinner in the Great Hall, others had already eaten and went back to the common rooms. Rose wasn’t really feeling either of those options; she didn’t want to be around people, she just wanted Scorpius.

“I know a place,” she told him quietly, tugging on his hand. He nodded and let himself be led along up to the seventh floor, where a door appeared.

“Room of Requirement,” Scorpius mumbled as they approached.

“You know it?”

“My father told me about it once. I never knew it was here.”

“Sometimes it isn’t.” She opened the door to reveal a room not so dissimilar to the living room at the Burrow. It was a place where Rose had always felt the safest and most loved. It only made sense that the Room would read her that way. Scorpius seemed a little intrigued, not only because there was a big family clock with her family’s names on it telling the looker where they were, but because the room was littered with family photos that the Room had collected from Rose’s memories. She sat in the big comfy armchair that her grandfather favored while he got a good look at the pictures.

“You know, it’s weird, but after spending so much time with you lot, I can pick out who’s who…I didn’t know James’ hair was red.”

“Mhmm, until he was eight and then it got darker.”

“Once a redhead, always a redhead.”

“Charming.”

He turned around, hands in his pockets and smiled at her. It made her fidget. Sometimes he was just so damn hard to read. He was so quiet and so still when Rose thought she would die if she didn’t have free use of her limbs and muscles at all times. He looked away and kicked at the floor.

“So Duncan Nash…”

Rose scowled. “Is very boring. All he did was talk about how _amazing_ he is at quidditch.”

“Average at best. With his stats, he’ll make reserves, but he’ll have a hard go trying for second string for any British team. He’d have to train more, edge someone out.  I suspect he’ll max out and hurt himself for good after three or four seasons.” He spat this out robotically, figuring through the numbers in his head. He pulled himself out of the numbers long enough to get a good look at a very bemused Rose who had gotten up from her seat.

“You actually did the math on that didn’t you?”

He shrugged, “Just saying. Statistically speaking.”

She took a long step toward him. “Just statistically?”

“Logically too.” She closed the distance between them, and they stood mere centimeters apart.

“And what does logic tell you to do with a girl you have all to yourself where no one will come looking for you?”

Scorpius tucked a thick lock of hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek, thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “That’s not logic,” he told her quietly.

“What is it then?”

In lieu of an answer, he kissed her. It was firm but gentle, his lips parting just enough to capture hers. She responded languidly, expecting it, her hands going to his hips to pull him closer, even as his clamped firmly against the sides of her head to angle her where he wanted. Rose moved easily with him, melded against him to press closer and get more. Scorpius was warm and overwhelming, and she was having trouble thinking about anything beyond his lips sliding across hers.

“No more dates,” he whispered gruffly against her lips.

“Just with you,” she panted back breathlessly. With that, Scorpius bent to scoop her up from the floor and carried her over to the sofa. He sat first, easing her down to straddle his waist. Rose obliged him willingly, pressing her chest up against him, pushing her hips forward. As he groaned, his grip tightened on her, and one hand slid up along her length to bury itself in her hair. He used that leverage to jerk her mouth back to his. She responded hungrily, nipping, tugging, and pulling at him. Her hands sunk into his thick hair, trailed down to scratch at his neck. Rose could feel him hardening under her, felt it acutely when his hips jerked up looking for her heat. She moaned at the contact, knowing that her skirt and knickers were a paltry defense. With a gasp she pulled back, not at all sure that this was happening at an appropriate pace. Scorpius seemed to be on the same page, because he just pulled her tighter against him and buried his face in her neck. It took a few moments, but she gentled him by stroking his head, tracing shapes and whorls on his skull as soothingly as possible.

“Goddamn,” he bit out with a shudder. Which made her chuckle not only because it was so _muggle_ of him to say, but also because he really didn’t swear that much.

“You’re telling me.”

“Can we just…” He pulled back to look up at her pleadingly. His gray eyes were so wide and so vulnerable, watching her like she was his most precious thing. Rose pulled her hands forward to cup his face. “Can we just lay down for a bit? We don’t have to—” She decided that the best way to shut him up and stave off the panic on his face was to kiss him soundly. When he was appropriately mollified, she disentangled herself and pulled him down along with her to stretch out on the sofa. There wasn’t much room for two, so she, doing what she’d often seen her parents and aunts and uncles do, maneuvered herself to lay on top of him, head on his chest, one leg between his.  Together they laid there silently for what felt like hours. Scorpius had one arm slung around her waist, and his free hand played with her hair, watching how the curls glinted and sparked in the firelight. Rose had her arms tucked under his shoulders like he was a body pillow, and every once in a while she turned her face to nuzzle against his chest. It was the most comfortable she’d been in a long time.

“We shouldn’t tell Al yet,” she whispered into his shirt. She’d thought about this a lot, actually. Because while she’d never been convinced that anything could happen between them, she was afraid of how people would react. But no one’s opinion could ever be scarier than Al’s. Not even her father’s. Al was her best friend, her partner in crime, her support system amidst the chaos of the Weasley-Potters. He always backed in her an argument, even if he disagreed in private. His disapproval of any of her relationships would be enough to shut it down entirely. Luckily, Al was so easy going and very much aware of the power he had. He took his position in Rose’s life very seriously. But sometimes he couldn’t control his reactions, and Rose couldn’t control her responses to those reactions.

“He’ll know anyway,” Scorpius answered after a moment. He didn’t sound annoyed or angry by her suggestion; only resigned to the fact that Al was a nosy little bugger and a sneaky son of a bitch. It was very often the case that he didn’t _need_ people to tell him anything. She nodded against his chest.

“But can we keep it to ourselves for as long as possible?” she asked feebly, feeling a little choked up. It wasn’t something that she particularly _wanted_ , but by Merlin her family was a bunch of nosy and gossipy chits. If one of them knew something, then everyone did. Her parents and the majority of her aunts and uncles had already met Scorpius in one fashion or another, but that was as Al’s best friend. Him dating their baby RoRo was a different matter entirely. The only reason Uncle Harry’s head hadn’t exploded when Lily and Lysander got together was because of Aunt Ginny’s snappish reminder about the various age differences in their family relationships and the fact that _he_ (Uncle Harry) had dated _her_ (Aunt Ginny) when she was only a sixth year. And yes it bloody well was the exact same thing; they treated the Scamander boys like family, so it was no different. Plus it was _Luna’s_ son. Which meant, once Aunt Luna was brought into the equation, that Uncle Harry had no ground to stand on. This thing with Scorpius would be handled differently though, and out of her cousins, she was most afraid of Al’s reaction. The others would accept and get over it. They’d long since adjusted to having Scorpius around in some capacity.

“I’m going to have to word my letters to my parents very, very carefully, then. Mum has a nose for this kind of thing. She accidentally outed my cousin Brutus last spring.”

“You have a cousin name Brutus?”

“Ro, my name is Scorpius. My mother’s name is Astoria. And _Brutus_ is what throws you?”

She shrugged, “Sounds like a horse’s name.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him.”

“He’s a Greengrass right?”

“Mmmhm, on his mum’s side. Actually a Prince.”

“Brutus Prince.”

“That’s him.”

“Poor bastard. How many siblings does your mum have again?”

“Four. Two sisters. Two brothers. All Ravenclaws. They were all very disappointed in my getting sorted into Slytherin.”

“So you probably have about as many cousins as I do…”

He snorted. “Not even close. Aunt Priscilla never married, she lives in America. Aunt Daphne has two sons, Brutus and Marcus. Uncle Gideon has one daughter, Naomi. And Uncle Liam has two sons, Asher and Elijah, and two daughters, Hestia and Demi.”

“Teddy is also your cousin. And you have a hundred thousand second and third cousins.”

“Whom I’ve never really met. We spend all of our time with mum’s family,” he admitted a little too quietly. “Father says that aligning ourselves with former death eaters won’t help the Malfoy name.”

“Is that all he cares about?” She tried to ask without any malice, without heat in her voice. But honestly, she had a hard time coming to terms with Scorpius’ father. It wasn’t helped by the fact that Scorpius had never let them meet.

“No…well, perhaps. But he’s got his reasons.” She prompted an explanation. “He’s never said it, but I think it has more to do with me than anything else. Almost like he’s overcorrecting, trying to make up for the fact that he and my grandfather sullied our reputation.”

“I can be okay with that then.”

He chuckled. “I can handle my father.”

“Sure you can,” she said snuggling against him, letting her fingers drag along his shoulder blades. “But I can still be defensive on principle.”

“I don’t want you to hate him,” he admitted softly, fingers grazing her skull. “I know that sounds stupid and selfish considering everything he did—”

“It’s not. He’s your dad. That’s the person you know. My parents just know a different version of him.”

“He doesn’t dislike your parents and uncle as much as he says he does.”

“Oh?”

“Something I realized last year, actually.” He paused. “He was reading about something your mum had done. I think it was that legislation about dragons?” She snorted. That piece on the dragons had caused a huge row between her mum and Uncle Charlie. It was a ban on using dragons for recreational purposes (i.e. the Triwizard Tournament) which was a huge source of revenue for the Romanian reserve. The arguments lasted nearly three months until her mum made a counter-offer: the dragon reserves would have exclusive rights to the appearances and behaviors of their specific dragons so that they could conjure replicas with a lifespan of 48 hours. The conjured dragons would be designed to look and behave exactly like the dragons owned by a specific reservation. The whole thing was very complex and had opened up a huge amount of job opportunities world-wide without putting trainers and handlers in more danger than necessary. The bill was met with huge success, especially since Charlie Weasley backed it one hundred percent. Because, really and truly, the handlers hated taking the dragons off the reserve for other people’s entertainment. It was dangerous and a headache and the dragons always suffered for it.

“Well he just sounded…proud, I guess? Impressed, definitely. But there was just something about how he talked about it…And when your Uncle Harry made Head Auror a few years back he said: _Best man for the job. At least they’ve got one person there who knows what he’s doing_. And you know how much my father detests the Ministry.”

“And my dad?”

He sighed, “A little more complicated, but…You know that big deal he made with that Japanese supplier over the summer?” She hummed her yes. That deal was celebrated for weeks among the Weasley-Potters. It would bring in enough revenue to expand the Wheezes chain outside of the UK, and Roxy was in line to head up the European division. By the time he graduated, Hugo would have the option to start up and run an American division. “Well, dad never talked about it, but I know for a fact that one of his companies has a major contract with that supplier.”

“You think he had something to do with the deal?”

“I think he made sure it was _in their best interest_ to set up an amicable deal with Wheezes.”

“That’s…” she breathed. “I don’t know what that is.”

“I would say that it was manipulative and underhanded. I really did expect him to write your dad and tell him all about it. Lord it over him.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No, I don’t even think mum knows. I only know because I recognized the name from one of his rants about how difficult Asian wizards could be when it came to money. _Stingy_ , is the term he used.”

“That money is going to take care of my parents and grandparents for the rest of their lives. My mum’s parents are going to be able to close their practice and not have to rely on savings…”

“I remember.”

“Do you think he feels guilty, your father? Like he wants to make amends?”

“Terrible way to go about it, if you ask me. The beneficiaries don’t even know.”

“But I do,” Rose argued gently. “That’s enough.”

“I’m glad.”

“So whenever we decide that my family won’t burn London down in anger and/or celebration due to our coupledom…” Scorpius mouthed the word _coupledom_ , like she was a nutter. “I would like to meet your parents.”

“Them and my mum’s side. Maybe my gran. But not my grandfather.”

“Scorpius…”

“Not my grandfather,” he repeated firmly. He only saw his paternal grandfather during holidays. His gran came around every so often, but only when his father was away. It was a silent but understood arrangement that no one ever discussed with Scorpius. When he turned 11, his father had sat him down and explained the way of things with the Malfoy family; he explained what happened during the war, their role in it, and how everything played out afterwards. Scorpius needed to be prepared when he went to school, needed to know how he would be treated by others because of who his father was. After that day, Scorpius never again questioned why his father’s father wasn’t welcome in their home, why they never visited the once-resplendent Malfoy Manor. His grandfather could rot in his pureblood superiority for all he cared, but he would never, ever subject Rose to his scrutiny. Ever. Al met him once, though, over Easter that one year when the Weasley-Potters were arguing constantly. But Al was more wizard than muggle and a Slytherin male besides. At fourteen, he’d walked right up to the former death eater, introduced himself as Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley’s son as well as his grandson’s best friend. Completely unintimidated, he’d informed Lucius Malfoy that he had no intention of severing his friendship with Scorpius, so if he had something to say about Al’s family, he’d better get it out in the open right away. Lucius had sneered at him, shot a look at his grandson, and walked away. But Rose wasn’t Al. Rose got angry easily, was far more self-conscious, incapable of stamping down her feelings and regulating her reactions to things. Scorpius loved those things about her, but that didn’t mean she would fare well with Lucius Malfoy.

“Well,” she agreed with a sigh, “If this thing works out with us, I’ll have to meet him eventually. You can’t shield me from them forever.”

“I can damn well try.”

“He wouldn’t be the first person to call me the daughter of a mudblood and blood traitor. Certainly not the first person to insult my family to my face.”

“He’s worse than that,” Scorpius insisted.

“And we can deal with that when the time comes. Who knows, maybe we won’t have to. Maybe he’s mellowed.” Scorpius snorted beneath her. Rose pulled back, unearthing a hand to trace a line down the side of his face and brush hair back from his forehead. It really was stupid that they’d put this off for so long. But she banished the thought easily. They were them and they got here how they got here. It was good and important. “Well if he had any hand in making you, then I can’t hate him entirely.”

“I can.”

“You’re allowed.”

“And you’re not?”

She’d seen pictures of the Malfoys before. When Al had refused to come home for Easter hols in their fourth year, she had gotten wildly curious about the Malfoy family. Other than the snide comments she’d always heard about Slytherins and _Draco_ , the adults in her family were all mum when it came to discussing the old family feuds. Rose hadn’t even realized that Scorpius was supposed to be a rival until her father pointed him out at King’s Cross all those years ago. Her own mother, the fearless Hermione Granger-Weasley who’d won awards for services to her school and country, went deathly pale whenever her children asked about the horrible scar on her forearm. In public, it was glamored away from prying eyes, but she didn’t always keep it up in the privacy of her own home. Rose had seen her father kiss that ugly word more than once. Her mum always winced. It was one of those unspoken Weasley-Potter rules, like asking about Uncle George’s ear or the man who looked eerily similar to him standing beside him in old family photographs: It happened in the war, and there was no need to discuss it. Uncle Harry, Aunt Angelina, and mum, once Hugo was old enough, sat all of the cousins down and told them all about their Uncle Fred who had been their Uncle George’s twin brother. They told them all kinds of stories about the kind of boy he’d been, the man he became, and all the silliness he’d inspired. They told them how he died. Freddie cried for three days and no one knew how to comfort him. But other than what you could read in the textbooks, that was the extent of Rose’s knowledge on what happened to her family during the war. She’d always had a sneaking suspicion that Al knew much more than the rest of them, which was confirmed when he started rowing with James about Scorpius.

So Rose, being Rose, went snooping into old files and newspaper clippings. There weren’t terribly many photographs of Draco Malfoy, but he was frequently mentioned. Lucius Malfoy, however, was mentioned and photographed at least once a week after the war and before it. During, he was noticeably absent, but the before photos highlighted him at the height of his power. The after photos highlighted his disgrace. Rose couldn’t help but think that the world was a very fickle and unfriendly place. She also couldn’t help but notice how much Scorpius looked like his grandfather. It led her to scouring the Hogwarts library for old yearbook composites. She found one from when Lucius was in his sixth year; white-blond hair, roman nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw and pointed chin, pale gray eyes. He and Scorpius could have been twins, with one glaring exception. Lucius’ photo shifted from smirking to sneering, his gaze was arrogant and condescending, and his nose raised high. Even as a boy, beautiful as he was, there was no warmth in him. Rose remembered looking at him with a sick feeling of dread in her belly; she remembered it all too clearly. But as she looked down at Scorpius, he was all calm smiles and soft eyes. He blushed easily and was quick to laugh. He was the least competitive person she knew, but was always willing to jump into a fray to help someone out, whether he liked them or not. Even still, lying beneath the warm surface were the ancient and noble bones of the Malfoys, his infrastructure and features could all be attributed to them. So no, she really wasn’t allowed to hate them.

Instead of saying this, however, Rose just shook her head in response.

“I don’t understand that,” he confessed on a sigh, tucking hair behind her ear. Rose just shrugged and bent down to kiss him again, wanting to get banish the thought of the physical similarities shared between grandfathers and grandsons.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Jily

In 1977 Lily Evans was sulking. She was really trying not to, but she truly hated being called out for her (rare) poor behavior. Worse still, it was Remus calling her out. And even she knew that he was usually right in his perceptions of others, despite his delusional and negative view of himself. Lily simply didn’t like introspection. She didn’t like looking at the complexity of her interactions with people because it was draining and, sometimes, depressing. Whether they liked it or not, believed it or not, people often treated her differently because she was muggleborn. Not just any muggleborn either, she was top of her class and Head Girl, an extremely talented witch in her own right. But always lingering was the qualifier of her parentage; successful in spite of her background. If she monitored those comments and her feelings too closely, she would be a bitter and negative person. Lily simply didn’t have the energy to be angry all of the time. Not about _that_ , anyway. There were plenty of practical things to be angry about. Sev ditching her for bigots, for example, or her sister ignoring all of her letters for the past two years. So no, when James annoyed her or made her angry, she didn’t examine it beyond it being a negative emotion.

It was three days after her abortive attempt at dating, and she was hiding out in the Heads’ common room forcing herself to think about what Remus had told her. Fact 1: James Potter was in love with her. If it had come from anyone but Remus, she would have laughed it off. She had, in fact, but now was starting to see her error. So she was compelled to accept this information as a fact. Fact 2: His best mates were convinced that if nothing further happened, James would readily move on from her. This bit, though in direct conflict with Fact 1, inspired both relief and a twinge of panic. James Potter swept through Hogwarts like a tornado, tossing everything about to his own satisfaction and usually not bothering with the destruction he left in his wake. He was cocky and reckless, though both of those traits had diminished somewhat in the past year. This was also confusing and alarming because Lily couldn’t figure a reason for it. Sure, people could grow up and change and mature or whatever, but it usually took a while. All of that alone was enough to warn her off of him. And yet…well, she couldn’t deny that she was flattered. And that she’d grown used to the attention. But, she was also enjoying this updated version of James Potter. The one who smiled casually when he saw her, and talked to her seriously about patrol schedules or the younger students who were struggling. She _liked_ the version of James who fretted about being away from his elderly parents, who was inclined to rescue her from bad dates, who shared his private space with people he trusted. And, yes, she even liked the fact that after all these years, he and the other Marauders were thick as thieves and twice as loyal. In her working memory, she could only recall one huge falling out among them during fifth year, and that was only because James had very obviously ignored and avoided a very sulky and tormented-looking Sirius. And yet, somehow, they’d resolved everything and their friendship was as strong as ever. Very few people had that level of staying power with any kind of relationship. Look at her and Sev.

Lily was about to move onto Fact 3, which was making her stomach hurt a little, when Marlene swept into the Heads’ common room and gracefully draped across the sofa.

“You know, there’s a password for this room for a reason, Em.”

She spat her tongue out childishly, “Make up better passwords then.”

Marlene McKinnon at five foot ten with luscious gold hair and honey colored eyes, was Lily’s best friend. She was slender and pretty and spent more time sneaking off with boys than she did revising, but she was clever enough to pass her exams anyway. Mary, Dorcas, and Alice were all lovely, of course, and Lily spent a good deal of time with them, but Em was the one who made her talk about her fights with Petunia. Em was the one who could convince Lily to take a break and enjoy herself. Em was the one who saw through the pristine perfection of Lily’s forcibly unintrospective façade. And Lily loved her for it. Had she any interest in boobs or lady parts, Lily would have married the woman. Alas, they were sadly and aggressively heterosexual and doomed to be divided. Or so Marlene often said. She nudged Lily with her foot playfully.

“I’ve been talking to Sirius.”

Lily scowled. That was the other thing about Marlene: she could get anything out of anyone at any time. It was _absurd_. Everyone knew that Sirius Black was head over heels infatuated with her. It was stupid, really, but she was jealous of Sirius’ relationship with Remus. Remus who was dating Dorcas. A very, very confusing dynamic that Lily didn’t want to put much thought into. She figured Marlene would eventually pull her head out of her ass and shag that annoyingly beautiful prat sooner or later.

“Oh really?” Lily asked feigning indifference as she picked at the thread coming off of a pillow on her lap, “And what did dear Sirius have to say?”

“That you’ve been hiding out and brooding.”

Lily rolled her eyes and shoved the pillow behind her head, “How would Black know I’ve been hiding?”

“Because James told him you’ve been in here all day and not left to go eat and was all in a tizzy about to send one of the house elves up to feed you before you passed out or something.” Lily grumbled about nosy sods ordering about poor defenseless creatures until Marlene laughed at her. “It’s just not like you, Lils. You hate it in here. Even James knows that.”

“I just needed some quiet to think.”

“And what did you need to think about?”

“ _Em_ —”

“Don’t _Em_ me, missy. You’re the one making a fuss. It’s well within my best friendly duties to get you sorted. And Sirius was more concerned than annoyed with James’ concern which is unusual all by itself, so I asked why he should be so put off by your acting weirdly and _he_ told _me_ that _he_ told _you_ something about James the other day that might have upset you more than he intended, and that he was actually sorry for saying it if that was the case. So I asked him what he said, but _he_ said to ask _you_ and that if you wanted to talk about it that was fine, but _he_ didn’t want to be any more involved than he had to be. Which is an interesting turn for him don’t you think? It almost sounds like he’s maturing a little. You don’t think he’s trying to improve for me, do you? I should think—” Lily clapped a hand over her friend’s mouth to stop the waterfall of words spilling from her lips. She only released it when she was sure that the word vomit was finished.

“I—” Lily started but stopped herself, trying painfully hard to phrase her thoughts in the right way. “I needed to think…about James.” Marlene, knowing her best friend very, very well, arched one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows, but kept silent. “Remus says that James is in love with me.” Marlene snorted, earning her a glare. “And since Remus is saying it, I suppose that I can trust it.” At which Marlene hummed in agreement. Lily continued to tell her all about her conversation with Remus and Sirius by the lake and what she thought about it. Always on defense, she cleverly skirted around the idea of how she _felt_ about it. But Marlene wasn’t as easy to distract as the others.

“So you’re sitting here trying to think your way through how you feel about James, is that it?”

Lily slumped, “I suppose.”

“Well.” Marlene settled better into the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “That’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. And I dated Stewie McCullen for three months in fifth, mind.”

“Stewie was nice.”

“Stewie is a prize idiot. I’m not at all sure how he is still alive given how stupid he is. _Honestly_.” She tossed her hair. “And quit trying to distract me from the issue. You can’t _think_ about how you _feel_. Merlin’s saggy left tit, Evans!”

“Well then what would you suggest, then oh wise one? I haven’t the first clue how to sort through any of this. I thoroughly disliked him for such a long time that the idea of even feeling remotely fond of him is…is…I don’t even know what it is!”

“Merlin’s balls, Lily, listen to you with your _dislike_ and _feeling fond_. That’s like choosing beige or gray when you could have something bright and colorful.” Lily groaned and swatted at her friend who laughed at her attempt.

“Stop making fun of me and help me!”

Marlene inhaled deeply and bodily turned to face her, “It’s really very simple, love. The next time you see him, without hesitating or thinking about it, just snog the crap out of him…”

“ _Em!_ ”

“And if your heart starts beating so fast it hurts and your gash starts aching like you’ll just die if you don’t get him to touch it, then you’ll know you’re in love with the tosser.”

“I cannot believe you just said that.” Marlene only shrugged and smirked. “But what if I don’t…feel that way?” she asked her, feeble and subdued.

“Then you don’t fancy him. Look, when you’re not snapping at each other, the two of you get along splendidly. You’ve been working well together. You’re both intelligent, generous people with a lot of people who love you. But if there’s no chemistry, then there’s no heat. And if there’s no heat, you’ll both get over it and move on.”

“But what if he still thinks he’s in love with me, but I know I don’t fancy him?”

Marlene waved her off, “Trust me, men are fragile, they know when a girl really isn’t interested. He’ll be crushed, but he’ll get over it too. Probably faster, actually, because he’s been in love with you a lot longer than you’ve even considered him a friend.”

“This is absurd.”

“This is _love_ , darling, and it’s worth making a fool of yourself over, I think.”

“So I just walk up and snog him?”

Marlene pursed her lips, squinting at some distant object, “The others would probably tell you to flirt and play hard to get, I think. But, firstly, you’re pants at that…”

“Oi!”

“And secondly, this is James Potter we’re talking about. He’s been in love with you for ages, so I think sending him soft signals will just confuse the hell out of him. He’s also firmly convinced that he’s got no chance with you, so he’ll probably ignore it thinking that you’re feeling off or that you’ve hit your head or something…”

“Comforting, Em, thank you.”

“It’s true and you know it. So yes. Direct and aggressive. It may catch him off guard, but he’s not the one that needs convincing here.”

“This is such a terrible idea.”

“Now, there are benefits to getting him alone first, but considering your history, that will come across as fishy. He’ll spook or something. Maybe if you wrangled him in here…”

“We never spend any time in here. He’s always with the boys and I’m always with you girls.”

Marlene hummed, her brow furrowing into heavy lines that didn’t suit her bright face, “All right then. We’re planning too much. If you’re planning, you’re thinking, and if _you’re_ thinking then nothing will ever happen.”

“I resent the implication…”

“So you’ll just have to do it wherever you see him first.”

“But what if he’s with the others? Or in class? Or in the _Great Hall_?” She shuddered. “I am not snogging _anyone_ in front of McGonagall. It’s _not happening.”_

“How about this: We’ll go grab the girls—”

“No!”

“We don’t have to _tell_ them anything, Merlin Lily! We’ll go grab the girls, then tell them we need to find James because you have to ask him about Heads stuff. And since he’s _bound_ to be surrounded by people, I’ll use the girls to create a distraction so you can snog your boy without anyone being the wiser.”

“What _kind_ of distraction?”

“Lily, if you’re going to question every step of the creative process—”

“Marlene Elaine McKinnon, I am not giving you detention again, ever, so tell me right now.”

“Fine, probably something involving fire that I may or may not have bought off of Fabian Prewett over the summer.”

“Em, the last time someone used one of those things, the floor melted.”

“Flitwick fixed it, didn’t he?”

At the look of pure stubbornness on her friend’s face, Lily decided to pick her battles better and prayed for the off chance that they wouldn’t need such drastic measures. They came to an agreement, shook on it, and set off in search of their friends. The girls were lounging around in the courtyard, using their wands to pass a translucent blue orb around, and were more than happy to join their friends in their search of the Marauders. They checked all of the usual places, the Great Hall, the abandoned Charms classroom, circled back to the courtyard, the lake, and all the usual spots on the grounds. Mary suggested the library for which she was mocked. In fact, they were just about to go back inside, by Dorcas’ suggestion, to check the Come and Go Room, where they could often be found during free hours, when four very familiar forms burst through the main entrance.

“Well speak of the devils,” Marlene said, jutting her hip out. “Hey boys!” she shouted, and then whistled to get their attention. All four heads swiveled in sync, and for the thousandth time Lily balefully thought to herself that there was absolutely _no way_ they didn’t practice that. They watched as the Marauders exchanged grins and shifted their trajectory to make their way to Lily’s group. James was smiling unabashedly, he even tossed his head back in laughter at something Remus said to them. And as Lily took this in, her stomach dropped and her whole body froze up.

“Lily?” Dorcas asked with no small amount of concern.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Too late now,” Marlene said, snatching up her arm and bodily dragging her along to meet the boys halfway. Dorcas skipped out ahead of them to get to Remus. As they were walking, Lily caught James’ gaze and he gave her an odd, questioning look. But there was that soft smile on his face, the one he aimed at her whenever she said something particularly clever in class or during their prefect meetings or at breakfast when no one was paying attention. He looked really confused as they approached, but Lily’s brain was whirring at a record speed and her heart was pounding so hard that it ached, and she hardly noticed that she’d pulled away from Marlene to walk a little faster.

James was standing between Sirius and Peter, looking at her with a mix of concern and amusement, “Evans, are you—?” She didn’t stop. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t _think_. Lily cut his question off by barreling into his personal space, grabbing his neck to bring her to his level, and kissing him soundly.

Now, had she been less distracted, she would have been completely mortified by the gasps and strangled surprise from her friends behind her, and the cheers coming from the Marauders around her. She also might have noticed that James flushed beet red and flailed for a second before responding enthusiastically, so enthusiastically that he was lifting her off the ground. But Lily didn’t notice any of those things. She was too overwhelmed by the press and tug of his lips against hers, his arms braced around her back, his breath coming too hard from his nose, the silly thought in the back of her mind that they really shouldn’t do anything else _ever_ except for this. But their stupid need for oxygen got in the way, so they broke apart with James still holding her just off the ground, wide eyed and blushing furiously. Lily took in the sight of his dumbstruck face, blushed herself, and made a half-hearted attempt to stifle a giggle.

Even in the midst of their friends sniggering and clapping, _Bravo, well done!_ (the wankers), they couldn’t seem to tear their eyes away from each other. Partly out of embarrassment, partly because they were too stunned. She was caught off guard by the fact that his eyes had quite a lot of green in them for being brown.

“We should probably—” James cleared his throat, gently setting her back on the ground. She was disturbed by the fact that she hadn’t realized her feet weren’t touching the ground.  Lily was going to take a step back, find some semblance of balance and dignity, but James’ arms tightened around her and she had to smother a surprised squeak. “…talk,” he finished finally, “in private.”

“Uhmhmm,” she agreed weakly, inhaling sharply as the scent of broomstick polish hit her. With that, he smoothly turned, grabbing her hand in a fluid movement and tugged her down a path to the Forest at random, leaving their friends clapping and jeering behind them.

Sirius Black watched the pair of them go with a reluctant smile and a small twinge in his chest. Lily was stealing that boy right out from under his nose, but he was so chuffed for the both of them that his jealousy died a quick and painless death.

“Pay up, Black,” came the dulcent tones of the very fit, exceptionally exquisite, stunning, Marlene McKinnon. She approached him with a smirk and a swagger and a hand outstretched.  Bloody hell, he needed to get things sorted with her. But he was _not_ about to explain why Remus needed special attention for a week every month. Not happening. “I should have made it double cause I did it in a day.” With a wry grin, he dug into Remus’ robes pocket for the galleons they’d given him to hold for their bet.

“I have to say, McKinnon, _that_ was pretty impressive. Bloody sneaky, but impressive.”

“Like I told you,” she said pocketing the money with a satisfied smile, “I know my girl.”

“Better than the rest of us apparently,” Remus grumbled.

Marlene winked at them, “Easiest money I’ve ever made.”

 

Meanwhile, James was pulling Lily along at a brisk pace through the grounds, ignoring all outside attempts to get his attention. He headed straight for the trees, pushing through the bush he knew would give way to one of Hagrid’s paths. Lily was surprisingly compliant, following along without being prompted, not complaining about Forbidden-ness or rule breaking or anything. He made for the first sturdy tree he could see, and swung her around to push her up against it.

“ _James_ ,” she breathed out just before he put a stop to all the talking nonsense by kissing her. James was addicted. She was so soft and her lips were lush and eager to meet his. He kissed her like a man about to march off to his death and she was his most precious thing. He didn’t bother to hesitate opening her up to explore her mouth more deeply. He had one hand clenched at her waist, the other buried in her hair, and he drank down her sighs like he’d die without them. He felt her nails dig into the sensitive skin of his neck and he could’ve cried at how good it felt. She was so warm and smelled like vanilla and lavender, and he was about a half second from dropping his hand to her thigh so he could…

With a gasp, James wrenched his mouth from hers. Instead he kissed a path from her cheek to her ear, and down to her neck.  He was trying his damnedest to stave off his reaction to her sudden proximity, but she smelled so bloody good.

“Thought…” she laughed out, tilting her head to give him more access. She was gripping his shoulders now. “We were gonna _talk_.”

“Fuck that,” James mumbled against her skin, pressing soothing kisses to the spots he’d abused. But then he pulled back to look down at her with a wicked glint in his eye, “I’m milking this mood for as long as I can,” he told her very gravely. Lily’s bark of laughter was cut off when he swooped down to kiss her again, quick and firm. But Lily worked her hands up to his face to forcibly remove his mouth from hers.

“You do realize that we share a password protected common room?”

“Pssht,” he pecked at her lips again, once then twice, “Lads figured the password weeks ago.”

“Goddamn it!” she growled out, punching his shoulder. _Ow, Evans!_ “Why does everyone know our password?”

Rubbing his shoulder, he cocked his head, “Who else knows?”

“Marlene. She just waltzed right into our common an hour ago.”

“An hour?” James picked up her hands in his, lacing their fingers together, kissing the side of it, “Merlin’s balls that girl works fast.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed, “What is that supposed to mean, exactly?” she asked tossing her hair but not removing her hands from his. James took this as a good sign.

“Well, the first thing you need to know is that I am one _hundred_ percent unprankable.”

“One hundred percent?”

“I’m rounding up,” he explained dismissively. “This is because the only people capable of pulling one over on me have been my roommates for six years. I know all of their tricks. And I’ve known Marlene since nappies, I learned from the best.”

“Okaay..?”

“So when they all start whispering together and hand Remus, our designated bank, a pouch of galleons without consulting me, I know they’re up to something.”

“They were…betting on us?”

He chuckled, lifting her hand to kiss her wrist, “Let’s just say that in Three Broomsticks the other day, I only said that you looked bored with Fenwick. We weren’t even supposed to be there, we had plans at Hog’s Head to meet up with the Prewetts.  And then all of the sudden, Sirius has the _perfect idea_ to bail you out of your date. And the materials to do it. And Remus is offering to escort you out. And Pete’s saying we should take you over to the lake. Do you know how long it takes the four of us to _agree_ on anything? To date, there is an unresolved debate regarding which brand of fake blood is best.”

Lily inhaled, shaking her head, trying to steady her nerves, “Sirius told me that you were still in love with me and Remus said I needed to make up my mind about what I wanted or you were gonna move on.”

“Son of a…”

“And then Em _somehow_ knew I was in the Heads’ common earlier because _Sirius_ told her that _you_ said I’d been in there all day…” _Goddamn it, Sirius was the one who had the Map._

“I had class, which Sirius slept through, skipped lunch to do lines for Minnie, tutored that one kid with the big ears…”

“Terrence Hatfeld.”

“…in Charms. I didn’t see Sirius until…well, right before we left the castle.”

“Bloody hell, I’ve been played.” But then _of course_ , his hand tightened around hers and she could see the panic swelling in his eyes. “ _No_. Not…” Instead of trying to launch into a terribly awkward explanation of her conversation with Marlene, she went up on her tiptoes, scrambling to kiss him again. Damn their height difference! Luckily James caught her drift quickly enough to bend to meet her; she captured his upper lip between her slightly parted ones, anchoring them together, pressing and releasing, holding him there to her for a second. When they broke apart he was blushing again and watching her, completely dazed. Lily felt her tummy flip. _Flip_ , ha! Some acrobatic bit of her intestines was doing bloody _cartwheels_ in there.

“Right,” he said gruffly, “Good then, I…” Lily laughed softly through her nose while he tried to re-learn the English language. “So they definitely had a bet going…”

“Involving us.”

He raised a brow at her, skeptically, “Uh, probably just you, actually.”

“Why just _me_?” she whined, all but stamping her foot. He brought a hand around to fluff up his hair. “What? Seriously, at this point, just tell me.”

“After I got my badge, I told the lads that I wasn’t going to fuck up a chance to be your friend by making you uncomfortable, so…”

“So you were going to back off?”

“Yeah,” he answered slowly. “I mean…be a friend involved in your life, sure, but I wasn’t expecting… _this_.” She disentangled their hands so she could wrap her arms around his neck and relax into him. Lily felt his arms wrap around the small of her back, felt him lift her to take more of her weight, to make her more comfortable.

“Em told me to stop thinking,” she mumbled into his chest. When he asked her to repeat that, what with her voice being muffled and all, she snorted and looked up at him. “She told me to stop thinking and just snog you.”

“I am sending that girl a basket,” he told her very seriously, making her smile. “But I’m sure someone’s said that to you before.”

“Only a thousand times.”

“Sooo…”

“So why now?” He grunted and she nuzzled back into his chest, trying to sort through everything she’d been thinking about before Em had showed up. It was a little embarrassing and she wasn’t quite sure that she wanted him to know all of that just yet. So, she opted for the shorter version. “Sunday before last during lunch, you got that care package from your mum, remember?” He nodded, but he only remembered it vaguely. His mum sent a lot of packages. “You took one look inside, pulled out a bunch of chocolate and gave it to Remus, and then you gave the rest to that first year, Tommy Mills?” _Oh_ , Tiny Tim. Who they only called Tiny Tim because he had like a dozen older siblings and his family was really poor and he was the youngest so he always got these shite hand-me-downs (Remus liked to read _A Christmas Carol_ to them, okay?). Anyway, James usually gave the kid the packages his mum sent that had treats and socks and scarves and some school supplies (the lads were constantly nicking his stuff). James had even asked for a new jumper and shrunk it down to Tiny Tim’s size because the little bastard’s jumper had a bunch of holes in it. James didn’t tell the kid he’d done it and he’d never brought it up, so. And if his mum ever asked him about it (she always did) he would just say Remus stole it or Sirius set it on fire (both of which had happened more than once).

James shook his head, “Yeah, I don’t follow.” He _always_ gave those packages away. In the beginning, he gave them to Remus and Pete since their parents couldn’t afford to over-provide. But eventually they had started earning their own pocket money during the summers and had finally ( _finally_ ) allowed James and Sirius to waste their inheritance on them occasionally. So the chocolate was always set aside for Remus (who liked to share with Pete) and the rest was given away to a first year. It was easy enough to pick someone out; Remus tutored a good portion of them so he knew who was without (not to mention, poor kids could spot other poor kids in a crowded room, no problem). Sirius liked to tease him for it, calling it his charity giveaway, but James didn’t really have any use (or space) for all the extras. He figured someone should make use of his mother’s fretting ( _You’re so skinny, you’ll get cold in Scotland. How can you pass your exams without quills, James?_ ). Honestly, that woman.

“I’d seen you do it before. Probably a hundred times. Your mum spoils you, did you know that?” He snorted. “Well…I think something just _clicked_ in my head.” _Clicked_ was right. She’d been ridiculously turned on. He hadn’t just passed off that package. He’d taken out Remus’ favorite brand of chocolate and handed it over to him without saying a word. Then he’s given Tommy the rest of it, ruffling his hair and swiping the last of the mince pies for him from some greedy fifth year. A gray eagle owl, who the Gryffindors knew belonged to the Blacks, had flown in with a letter for Sirius. James had intercepted it, read it, and then promptly lit it on fire without so much as looking at his friend. And while lecturing Remus on his sleeping habits, he had cut up Peter’s food for him (since he’d burned his hands something awful in Potions), and prepared and shoved tea at Sirius who had started to droop. And he’d done all of this without aplomb, without drawing attention to himself, before he even put food on his own plate.  In fact, he was so busy telling Remus about muggle sleeping aids he’d been researching and trying to help Peter eat that by the time he needed to leave for practice, he hadn’t eaten a single thing. So when Remus told her that they were concerned about someone taking care of James when they couldn’t, Fact 3 had promptly taken hold of her brain.

 _Lily_ wanted to be the one to take care of James.

It was horribly embarrassing, really, to feel so strongly about it. But sitting there, she remembered getting annoyed that no one was shoving food in his face. That no one insisted that he take a breath, or that maybe Remus could handle his own sleep issues with Madame Pomfrey because, you know, it was her _job_. She was pissed because Peter was whining that he couldn’t eat properly, so he wasn’t eating as much and he was starving, when James was heading off to practice after having no lunch! And no, she hadn’t really thought about it too closely because she didn’t want it to mean anything, but the idea that he could actually _need_ her was a little too much to resist.

In the horribly long pause it took her to finish what she was saying, Lily had looked up at him again and he was staring down at her lips, his gaze darting over her features for a second to land right back on her mouth. It made her smile.

“And then after that truly boring date with Fenwick…”

“Yeah,” he murmured, “about that…”

“I think I just wanted to see if there was…chemistry.”

“Chemistry?”

“ _Heat_ ,” she amended in a whisper, biting on her lower lip. She felt his arms tense around her, felt him press forward just so, so that her back was up against the tree again.

“Heat?” he echoed again, eyes locked on her lips still. Lily knew her cheeks were turning bright red again as one of his hands grazed down her backside to slide along her thigh and pull it up against his side. In a quick movement she couldn’t catch, James hoisted her legs around his waist, bracing her there with his arms and the tree, making her gasp and tighten her arms around his neck. They were even in height now, noses brushing, lips nearly touching.

“ _Heat_ ,” she panted back in confirmation. There was so much more of him pressed up against her now; she had him close and couldn’t help but squirm against him, wanting pressure in places she hadn’t realized needed it.

“And your conclusions?” he whispered harshly, words a little sluggish.

She bit her lip to hide a smile, “Not enough data.”

“Then allow me to oblige,” he muttered before closing that small space between them. Their kissing was open and messy and thoroughly exploratory. His hands were tight on her thighs, but her legs were spread and he pushed up against her in tandem with their kissing, and Lily heard herself _moan_. In her position, she was powerless to do much of anything, but she tightened her legs around him, she dragged her hands through his already ruined hair, she licked into his mouth like he had the antidote to whatever poison was rushing through her bloodstream.

Lily had dated. She had kissed a few boys. She had even snogged on occasion. But not _like this_. She’d never felt this desperate or out of control, following urges that seemed to rise up from nowhere. She’d never once wanted her partner’s hands on her bare skin; she’d never even considered taking her clothes off. But in that moment, in that secluded part of the Forest with James, Lily was mere seconds from ripping off her blouse, and bra besides. It was _ridiculous_. They’d been at this for maybe twenty minutes, at most, and she was pretty sure that she hated the person who’d decided that shirts were a good idea.

So it was James who put a stop to it.

“ _Lily_ , we’ve got to stop,” he panted out roughly and, she hoped, reluctantly. “If we keep going, I…well, I’d stop whenever you want me to, but it’ll be a lot more difficult.”

“Right,” she said, going for prim but coming across wobbly. She put her hands squarely on his shoulders. Which were sturdy, by the way, broad but not stupidly so, big enough to sink her fingers into. “You, uh—” she cleared her throat, “You should probably put me down then.” Lily was deliberately looking up and away from him, not wanting to see his expression lest she get tempted again. Very carefully, he lowered her back down to the ground and held her steady until she got her footing. Then he took up her hands in his, lacing their fingers together, probably to stop himself from touching her again, and rested his forehead against hers.

“I really hope you’re serious, Lily, because I’m telling you if you’re not, then you’re going to have a devil of a time getting rid of me now.”

She leaned up to peck his lips, “I can’t be Sirius,” she told him prissily, “I’m Lily.” When his sluggish brain processed what she’d just said, James fully body laughed, sweeping her up into tight hug before showering her face with kisses, making her giggle.

“Bloody hell, I love you,” he told her evenly, as if it were something he said every day. It made her heart twinge. He set her back to her feet again.

“Well,” she coughed, “love me somewhere more comfortable. Like the damn quarters we share but can’t use because our bloody friends are gits.” She ran an absent hand through her hair, unconsciously straightening it out. “Speaking of, there’s no chance in hell that we’re getting back to the castle without bumping into them.”

“Oh Lily love,” he laughed, pulling something from his pocket, “One day, you really will have to accept that I have the stunning capability of beating the odds.” Wandlessly (she noted with some envy), he reversed a shrinking charm to reveal a large bit of fabric with intricate stitching, that was almost…

“Oh my God!” she gasped, slipping into her muggle euphemisms, “That’s an invisibility cloak!” While she was distracted by pulling it away from him to get a better look, James was shaking his head ruefully with his hands on his hips.

“And one day, I will have to accept the fact that there is very little that I know more about than you. Yes, it is an Invisibility Cloak. Family heirloom, if you must know. Quite the secret though, mum’s the word.”

He watched her freeze suddenly, raising her head like a mother doe sensing a predator. “How long have you had this?”

“Uhhhh….”

She punched him in the chest, “Potter!”

“Ow, woman, ow! Why are you always hitting me?”

She raised the offending article, “You’ve been using this to pull off all your stupid pranks haven’t you?”

“Unapologetically, too.” She went bug eyed, and he laughed at her, holding his hands out in supplication. “Oh come on, Evans, what’s a bored, ingenious wizard to do when he’s got time to kill and an Invisibility Cloak?”

Her eyes narrowed, “There’s something else isn’t there?” But all the incredulity had left her features, she was really curious now, like a Ravenclaw with a good puzzle. Lily liked puzzles, she liked piecing things together and having it all make sense. Internally, he was laughing at how much it must have irritated her not to be able to figure out how he and the boys got away with so much, how they left no evidence, how no one ever caught them in the act. Sure, it was _obviously_ them most of the time, but no one could _prove_ anything. Must have driven her mad.

“There is. But it’s a long story and not just mine to tell.” He held out his hand, “Truce?” Lily smiled at him reluctantly, doing her best to stop it, but she took his hand and he used the opportunity to pull her back to him and kiss her soundly. With their lips pressed together, James used his free hand to tug the cloak around him until they were fully hidden from view. Lily smiled into their kiss, opening her eyes to twinkle at him. Bloody Merlin’s saggy left bollocks, her eyes were so fucking _green_. James did his best to shake himself out of it and then dropped a hand to the small of her back to steer her back onto the path and out of the Forest. They cut through the grounds again, but to be on the safe side, he detoured away from the main entrance to good old George.

“Where are we going?” she asked at full volume. He shushed her.

“It’s an _Invisibility_ Cloak not a Muting Cloak,” he whispered, earning him a swat to his side. Once he got them through the passageway, much to Lily’s cursing and exasperation over their using secret passageways to get in and out of the castle (which was actually pretty amusing), he pulled off the Cloak and shrunk it back to fit in his pocket.

“Chances are,” he told her, taking up her hand to walk through the dark passageway, “the lads won’t think to look for us for another ten minutes or so. It’ll take us twice that to get back into the castle.”

“So?” she asked, completely puzzled by his conclusions.

“Let’s just say that in ten minutes, they’ll know exactly where we are and where we’re headed.”

“You are definitely going to tell me how the hells that works sometime.”

“Definitely,” he parroted back a little mockingly. He really did like having the upper hand sometimes. He quickly casted a lumos, mostly for her benefit. Anymore, his eyes adjusted easily to the familiar darkness and his feet knew the way.

“Do you really think they’ll try to ambush us?” she asked him not a little miserably. He paused in their trek to peck her lips.

“Nah,” he answered when they resumed walking, “But they _will_ try to interrupt. Probably try to follow us into the common. Or just wait there, since the whole bloody school knows our password.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Oh, there’s one place they won’t think to look for _hours_.” And, it happened to be one of the few places on the Map that was usually so crowded with footprints that it was hard to get a read on who was who.

*

Sirius, followed by a less enthusiastic Remus and Peter, all but fell through the portrait hole leading into the Gryffindor Common Room an hour and a half later.

“AH-HAH!” he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the couple lounging very casually and innocently on the big couch. Disappointment soon flooded his features as he took in the reality of the situation.

“You guys _suck_ ,” Sirius groused, throwing himself into an armchair.

“No, Padfoot,” James muttered, flipping a page in _Quidditch Weekly_ , “We’re just smarter than you.”

Remus laughed, “He’s got you there, Pads.”

“But we even had the—” Peter cut Sirius off with a pillow to the face. He recognized his mistake immediately when Sirius’ nostrils flared. He only had a moment to take a breath before Sirius was tackling him to the floor. Lily sat up, concerned about Peter’s welfare, but James and Remus ignored them entirely.

“I told him it was absolutely _no use_ trying to track you down and embarrass you.”

“I mean, what were _the odds_ of the two of us dodging you for two whole hours?” James asked lightly.

“You know, old chap, I haven’t the faintest idea. Probably could only happen…every once in a full moon,” Remus said offhandedly with a shrug. Lily frowned at him.

“It’s blue moon,” she corrected.

“What’s that, love?”

“The expression is every once in a blue moon since blue moons are so rare. It’s a muggle phrase, but surely you know it, Remus?” It was something she expected from purebloods, from students like James who refused to take Muggle Studies because it was too boring and he’d much rather interrogate muggleborns. For some unfathomable reason, they were both laughing silently, looking at each other with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“You know what, Lily,” Remus said passing around the back of the sofa, “you’re right. I don’t know what’s come over me. Slip of the tongue, I suppose. Must be from the late night I had last week. Messed up my sleep schedule.”

She grabbed at his hand as he passed, “Couldn’t you go to Pomfrey? See if she’s got something to help you?”

Her heart almost crushed in on itself at the horribly sad smile that took over his features. When he smiled like that it emphasized a really dreadful white scar on his face, one that he had never properly explained to her. And in that moment, he looked so sad and so lonely that she wanted to hex into oblivion whatever was making him feel that way. But he just patted her hand.

“M’fraid not,” he said looking her in the eye, “There are some things not even a good sleeping draught can cure.” He broke their eye contact to look over at James and give him a nod. He squeezed her hand once more before he released it. “I think I’ll be begging off for a kip before dinner if you lot don’t mind.”

“Moonless dreams, Remus,” James called after him.

“Open fields, Prongs,” he called back without looking as he went up the stairs. Lily looked between them, still confused.

“What does that mean? Moonless dreams and open fields.”

James’s gaze was fixed firmly on the staircase where Remus had disappeared, and to Lily he looked small and sad and tired. She hated it. She wanted his smiles back.

“Really kind of an inevitable thing isn’t it, the moon?” he croaked out. “Makes you want to stop time in its tracks. Scream. Make the bloody thing sit still.”

Peter and Sirius had stopped their play wrestling apparently, long enough to hear what they were saying. Peter took a seat in the armchair across from James, and Sirius slid onto the armrest next to his friend, his eyes following James’ up to the staircase to the boys’ dormitories, and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Moonless dreams and open fields,” Sirius echoed. “It means freedom.”

“Freedom,” Peter repeated firmly as he nodded his agreement. Lily looked at each of them in turn, all the mischief and cheekiness having left their young faces. What could make them all so sad, so somber, so quickly? What could make them seem as if they’d already seen and known too much? Lily felt a great divide come between her and those boys, felt it widening, and it scared her. It really was no wonder that none of them had made other friends, that none of them kept girlfriends for long. This weighty thing that bound them together was too powerful for mere bystanders. And it occurred to her that in order to cross that divide, she would have to be consumed by whatever it was, that she would also be weighed down by that same sadness. It also occurred to her that a weight like that was often easier to carry with another set of shoulders.

“You know,” she said slowly, breaking the spell that had woven around them, “I’ve just had a thought. Since Remus is so tired and I have _no desire_ to deal with anyone right now, why don’t we get dinner and bring it up back here?” Three sets of eyes landed on her, smiles creeping back onto their faces.

“Lily love, I think it’s time you’re inducted into another Marauder secret.”

“Is it illegal?”

“Not…entirely.”

“Then lead on.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Jily--Marauders tell her about Remus, being animagi, & the Map.

In 1977, Lily sat on a couch in the Heads Common across from where Sirius Black was stretched out. Behind her, James and Peter were engaged in a heated chess match. She could only assume that Remus was reading. It was raining outside and they were bored; no one was willing to study on a Sunday during a natural lull in assignments. Lily was examining Sirius in repose just a little too thoughtfully, trying to figure her way around several inconsistencies in her mind.

“Sirius, can I ask you a question?”

“You can certainly try.”

“What’s going on with you and Remus that makes Marlene not willing to go out with you?”

“Oh Lily. Lily, lily, li-ly.”

“Sirius…”

“Marlene is a top notch bird. Lovely woman. Hell of a snog. But Moony is my soulmate.”

“ _What_?” she squeaked.

“ _Merde,_ Evans, he’s my brother and I love him, that does not mean we’re shagging.”

“Oh. Well. Why not?” She sank, brow furrowed.

“Lily, lily, li—” She threw a pillow out at him.

“If you say my name one more time, I will hex off your hair off permanently.”

“ _Lily_...”

“You are playing a very dangerous game, Black.”

He was definitely laughing at her. “I could sit here and try to explain what Remus is to me,” he told her, for once sounding completely genuine, “but it would take all day and I would still be talking in circles. What we are just is.”

“It _just is_ ,” she echoed, trying the words out on her tongue. He nodded.

“Marly will either accept it, or she won’t. But it’s not my job to convince her cause even if we go out, nothing will change.”

“What about Dorcas?”

“Meadowes is Remus’ problem, but from what I can tell, it’s about the same.”

“But that’s so unbalanced!” she protested loudly, not realizing how unfair she thought the situation was before she said it. “He can date whoever he wants and James can date whoever he wants, but _you_ can’t?”

“Whoa there Evans, Prongs has nothing to do with it. Not the same at all.”

“You boys give me a headache,” she grumbled.

Sirius tossed his head back laughing. “Look, it’s really very simple. You know Remus, right,” she nodded, “Well what you know barely scratches the surface of all that he is. He needs more. He requires more. So if Dorcas makes him happy for now, then he gets Dorcas. But if someone stands in the way of me giving him what he needs, that person’s gotta go.”

“So he just has all the power, he decides?”

“No. I do. If Dorcas did more harm than good, I’d get rid of her. _I_ was the one to tell Marlene to piss off when she got annoyed with me about Moony.”

Lily’s brain was buzzing with that information, trying to reconcile it with what she already knew. “That sounds like you’re making a lot of sacrifices…”

Sirius’ features tightened, his lips drew into a tight line, eyes narrowed even as they searched out tawny curls across the room. “It’s not a sacrifice if it’s what you want.”

“Still.”

“No matter how much I sacrifice it will never be more than what he suffers. Bird or no, I’m gonna be taking care of that scruffy tosser until one of us kicks it.”

“Sirius, that’s really…”

“Serious?” he asked with a smirk.

“Intense. I mean, don’t you want a family of your own someday? A wife or whatever? Kids?”

She watched his gaze glide past her with the subtleness of someone used to keeping tabs even while engaged in other activities. “He won’t ever get that, so I won’t do it either. I’m not leaving him alone.”

“James and Peter…”

“It’s not the same,” he snapped. “Pete and Jamie help, but they need more. James needs a girl like you to take care of him, keep him on track. Pete needs something of his own too, something to keep him focused on what’s important.”

“But what about you?”

“I have Remus. And trust me when I say, that’s more than enough. Besides, it’s my moral obligation as the former heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black to never, _ever_ reproduce. I’ll have to settle for your and Jamie’s sprogs.” She blushed furiously.

“And how does Remus feel about this?”

“Remus,” said the owner of the name, sidling around Lily to stand next to the still seated Sirius. He dropped a hand to Sirius’ head, threading his finger through the strands, scratching his head like he was a dog. It was oddly…cute? She couldn’t think of the word, but Sirius leaned into his touch. “Feels about the same. He also thinks that Sirius is a self-deprecating idiot, but that can’t be helped.” Sirius protested with a swat to Remus’ leg and then pulled him down to sit on the armrest so he could put his head on his lap.

“Remus, I didn’t—”

He waved her off, “It’s fine. This is very…What I mean to say is that it’s probably very confusing…” Sirius grunted. Remus’ lips tightened and he contemplated Lily for a long moment. “Prongs!” he called out, not breaking eye contact with Lily who was watching him warily, “We’re breaking a bunch of your rules again!” James’ response was to essentially shriek a strangled cry of panic of _What!?_ as he attempted to get out of his chair, but failed spectacularly by falling on his face and hitting the floor with a loud _thunk_. Lily whirled around, bracing herself on the couch to get a better look as her boyfriend scrambled to his feet. Blimey, he was an idiot. How the hell did he manage to stay on a broom fifty feet in the air? She was taken aback by the look of sheer panic on his face about his precious rules. Bloody hell, he was such a dork. When he was up and running, he hurdled the couch Lily was on to crowd in front of his friends and they started whispering among themselves furiously. Peter wasn’t too far behind, joining in and nodding along like he didn’t have any complaints. Lily caught a few snippets, but they were always talking in _code_. Something about monthlies and rules being in place for a reason (that was a laugh, coming from them).

Remus was the one to end the discussion, “Nope, no, shut up, we’re done. My reality, my decision. Don’t you dare argue with me James Potter,” he snapped loudly, shoving a finger in James’ direction to get him to be quiet. Annoyed by being left out of the deliberations, Lily cleared her throat loudly. Four sets of eyes, wide like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar, landed on her in tandem. Their synchronicity was still irritating.

“Care to share what the bloody hell is going on?”

With a sigh, James moved to collapse next to Lily, “Wormtail,” he prompted vaguely.

“On it,” Peter answered. Lily watched as he cast complex wards and silencing charms that you couldn’t find in your average textbook.

“What the he—?”

“For the record,” James said officiously to the ceiling, waving a hand about as he did, “While I appreciate the gesture and fully acknowledge the conveniences it will afford me in the future, I am in opposition to this decision and fully abhor the sentimental logic that led to its conception.” He dropped his hand to his eyes, shoving his glasses back to rub hard at them. Lily was vaguely concerned about his current stress level, but was truly confused about it, so she stopped herself from trying to comfort him.

“So noted,” Sirius said with thinly veiled sarcasm.

Across from her Remus inhaled deeply and slid into the small space between Sirius and the armrest. Sirius gave him only the smallest amount of room, choosing instead to put an arm around him.

“I—I honestly don’t know where to start,” he admitted ruefully, “Pads, how did you put it last time?”

Sirius smirked and looked at her, “Hey Evans, how do you identify a werewolf in human form?” He asked it like it was a joke or a riddle. She gaped at him for a minute, trying to understand what he was getting at even as her brain searched for an answer.

“Textbooks…” she started, but Sirius scoffed, “are vague and obviously biased, so I’ve always assumed that there’s no way to spot a werewolf outside of a full moon.”

“Oh no,” Peter chimed in with a chuckle, “there are definitely ways to pick one out of a crowd.”

“Stupid jumpers,” Sirius said solemnly, “They have very poor circulation. Always bloody freezing to death.”

“Chocolate addiction,” James rumbled beside her, still pinching the bridge of his nose and gesturing uselessly with his free hand, “Calms ‘em down and regulates the blood sugar.”

“ _Wicked_ looking scars,” Peter added, “If they can’t rip you to shreds, they turn on themselves. Curse wounds don’t fade easily.”

“Conveniently ill mums.”

As she listened, things were clicking into place in Lily’s head, but the whole of her attention was focused on Remus who was smiling against his will as they rattled off more sure-fire identifiers.

“Works too hard.”

“Very judge-y about the rule-breaking, they don’t like getting caught.”

“But they’re sneaky little bastards so they never get caught anyway.”

“In fact, people in power tend to unwittingly give them _undeserved_ positions of authority that they lord over their friends like bloody tyrants.”

“Annoying personal habits, always folding their socks and fussing about the washroom.”

“So much _swearing_.”

“Stupidly inept at taking care of their health. Sleeping and eating habits are _atrocious_. Must be monitored at all times.”

“And don’t forget the tea!” Sirius said, obviously very put upon, making the other two groan and making Remus laugh, “So fucking _fussy_ about their brand of tea.”

“And how it’s made,” James pointed out.

“English breakfast. Boiling hot. Bag before water. Teaspoon of milk. Stir in two sugars,” Peter rattled off in a mocking falsetto as if he’d condensed a lecture or two.

“ _Never_ put the milk and sugar in first,” the three of them chanted in unison. Remus’ shoulders were shaking.

“Are you all quite finished?” he asked them laughingly before turning back to Lily. He spread his hands out helplessly, as if to shrug and say _What can you do_?

“ _Remus_ ,” she whispered pathetically.

“I was bitten a month before my fifth birthday.”

“Oh my god.” She thought she was going to be sick, but Remus was still smiling kindly at her. “So every time your mother was sick?”

“Full moons. I used to have to spend a day or two resting up in the hospital wing, but the past few years have been…much, much easier.” Sirius kissed his friend’s temple loudly and Peter stretched his foot over Sirius’ lap to nudge Remus’ leg.

“Cheers, Moony,” James said from his still reclined position from next to her. Lily glanced over at him. Although he’d been pithy and cheerful during that revelation, he didn’t look at all relieved or relaxed now. James still wasn’t looking at her, preferring the back of his eyelids, so Lily made a face at him before turning back to Remus. She reached out for his hand and squeezed it.

“Well,” she felt her throat tighten at the thought that his gentle hands turned into claws he used to ruin himself. Those scars on his face, the ones that she could see peeking out at the cuffs of his sleeves, were obvious to her now. Her gut wrenched thinking about where else he was scarred and how badly. Shaking it off, she looked him squarely in the eye. “All that tells me is that you are a much stronger and a much better man than I realized. And that’s saying something because you’re the best I know.” She felt tears sting her eyes as his face reddened a little. He was smiling tightly and sadly at her, eyes glassy. Lily sniffed and let out a sharp and purposeful breath. “But there’s more. So spit it out,” she demanded imperiously.

James let out a whiny groan, flopping his arm against the armrest holding him up, “She’s going to _shout_ , I just know it.” Out of habit, she hit his leg. “Oi!”

“What did you do?” she demanded.

“See!” James said bolting upright, hand gesturing at her but looking insistently at the boys, “Haven’t even told her, already shouting. And _hitting_ ,” he spat, glaring at her and moving his body parts out of her reach.

“Yes,” Remus chuckled, “but she’s not going to shout at _me_.”

“Categorically unfair, that is,” James said slapping the coffee table between them. Sirius threw a pillow at his head, hissing something about _unfair_ and cussing in French. James tossed the pillow aside, flustered and red-faced now. “ _Fine_. But best to show her instead. And _I’m_ not doing it in _here_.” He pointed between Sirius and Peter, “So it’s on you two.”

With a lofty, put upon sigh, Sirius shifted slightly away from Remus on the couch and Peter moved himself to sit up squarely on the armrest opposite James.

“I figured out that Remus was a dirty rotten liar before Christmas our first year. Naturally I told these two oblivious dolts and we decided to confront our dear Moony, here.”

“With all the grace and tact of Hungarian Horntails,” Remus grumbled, settling back into the couch now that Lily had released his hand.

“Shut it, you!” Sirius said imperiously. “ _You_ shouldn’t have lied in the first place.”

“I am not doing this with you again…”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Peter interrupted. “Once we confirmed what he was, we spent an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out how to help. Took us a couple of years.”

“Ey, there were a lot of false leads and dead ends,” James snapped defensively. “People aren’t exactly eager to hang out with werewolves during full moons, you know.”

“The point,” Sirius continued, “is that we finally figured out that unlike humans, animals are impervious to werewolf bites.”

“Not that they can’t get hurt,” Peter amended, “but that they can’t be turned or suffer from cursed wounds.”

“Animals,” Lily said slowly and firmly, not liking where this was headed.

“Right,” Sirius confirmed, “Well, after that there was really only one solution to our problem.” He looked over at Peter, who shrugged in turn. James sighed loudly. “Technically, it was Jamie’s idea.”

“Traitor,” he grumbled.

“But it’s not like we could find another viable option,” Peter said in quick defense, shooting an odd look at Sirius who was trying not to grin impishly.

“Urgh,” James groaned, “Just show her already.”

Peter and Sirius made eye contact and nodded, and in the blink of a moment their bodies were replaced with the forms of a gray-brown rat on the armrest and a big black dog that shuffled over to curl against Remus, who stroked his snout very lovingly.

Lily shrieked, jumping up from her seat, hand going to clamp over her mouth as she stared at them, bug eyed and completely freaked out.

“You’re...!”

“Animagi,” James supplied evenly.

She turned to him, bewildered, “But you..!”

“We started the process beginning of third and finished before end of fifth.”

“That’s—!”

“Highly illegal because we’re not registered. And we did it without proper supervision. And we regularly sneak out of the castle to keep Remus company during transformations. And while we’re spouting secrets and confessions all over the damn place, we transform pretty regularly to run around the Forest, too. And well, Pete likes to muck about in the castle, but he’s the only one small enough to do it without getting caught.” 

Lily clamped two hands over her mouth to stifle what she was sure was a very loud squeak. James watched her, very bemused by her reaction, but still looking a little stressed about it. Lily was just trying to get her heartrate back to normal. James looked pointedly at Remus.

“I am very uncomfortable with the amount of rule breaking happening right now.” And she could only assume that he wasn’t talking about school or wizarding rules. Lily was furious. She leaned down to punch him hard in the shoulder, making Remus laugh.

“You’re an unregistered animagus!” she hissed in her outrage, as if accusing him of high treason.

“For a noble cause!” he shot back, rubbing his shoulder, taking offense. “We couldn’t do it without all these bloody adults poking their noses in where they don’t belong! And Moony needed us!”

“That is so—!”

“Dangerous? Reckless? Stupid? Yes, yes, we’ve all gone through the rigmarole of naysaying, but it worked and we’re _fine_ and Moony doesn’t tear himself to shreds anymore.”

She hit him again and sat back on the sofa, “I was going to say _sweet_ , you knob,” she gritted out, very much irritated with him. James didn’t even notice her assault that time as his jaw dropped and he racked his brain for a response. Remus snorted loudly, so did Sirius…or the dog…or whatever.

“Oh,” he breathed out, staring at her a little wide eyed and wary. She _had_ hit him a few times already, it was justified.

“I still think you’re all stupidly reckless,” she grumbled with a pout. As she crossed her arms over her chest and slumped against the couch, Peter transformed back into his usual state. Sirius, oddly, remained in dog form. He must have enjoyed being petted too much, and Lily could only guess at how often he transformed just because he could.

“Padfoot handles stress better as a dog,” James said quietly, obviously reading her mind.

“It’s a little unnerving…”

Remus sighed, ruffling the dog’s ears playfully, “Well get used to it. Most days he actually _prefers_ being a dog.”

Lily’s brain flipped so hard that she had to put out her hands to steady her universe.

“ _Wait a minute_ ,” she said flatly, her voice dropping a few registers lower than normal. She pointed at Remus. “Moony,” and then at Sirius, “Padfoot because of his padded feet,” and then at Peter who grinned, “Wormtail because of your rat tail and this lot is unimaginative?” Peter laughed. But then Lily turned to James and the room got quiet. James was looking at her with a somewhat impressed, but wry look on his face, almost like he was daring her to take a stab at guessing the reason for his nickname. But she was honestly at a loss. _Prongs_ didn’t fit with anything she had in mind.

“We were _trying_ ,” James informed her loftily, “to be subtle.”

“ _Moony_ is a little on the nose, don’t you think?”

He tossed his head back laughing, “Probably, but give us a break, we were twelve.”

She arched a brow at him and bit her lip to stop a smile. On the one hand, she was _really, really_ mad at him. But on the other, outrageously impressed. Because it was impressive. And nearly impossible. Not only was the process of becoming an animagus difficult for mature, adult wizards, but it was wildly dangerous and complex. All three of them managed before turning sixteen. Not only was it unheard of, it was insane. And to have kept it a secret, to have done it without tutelage or advice…Lily had objectively come to realize that the four of them were highly intelligent and clever. Very bored with the rigidity of formal education, but leaps and bounds ahead of anyone else in their year. And it was raw talent, a dedication to thorough and unconventional research. They were revolutionaries, experimenters, forces to be contended with. And yet, they covered all that up with a façade of arrogance, laziness, and a general disdain and disregard for the system of rules that prevented them having a good time. With the glaring exception of Remus, who had always worked twice as hard as everyone around him to stay ahead in his studies.

A grin spread across James’ face and she could tell he was caving to her silent request that he explain himself on his own. In a sudden burst of energy, he jostled around so as to sit next to her with his arm firmly around her shoulders, pulling her back to rest against the back of the couch.

“I have only transformed indoors once and never again because it was a disaster and I’m thoroughly traumatized. I prefer my open fields.” _Open fields_ , her mind whispered quietly.

He inhaled deeply and took out his wand, gesturing in a tight, circular motion, and saying softly, “ _Expecto Patronum_.”

The bright stream of light from the tip of his wand stretched languidly into the fluid form of a stag. It darted up to the ceiling, prancing around the room once before sweeping down to nudge at Peter, nearly knocking him off the couch as he laughed, and came to rest in front of Remus. The stag nuzzled against Remus’ outstretched hand before it knelt down at his feet and faded into silvery wisps that shot apart.

“Prongs,” she whispered, a little in awe still that his patronus was so vivid and alive. Lily only knew a handful of people who had been able to cast non-corporeal patronuses last year when they’d learned it in Defence. Lily was among them, but she couldn’t find a strong enough memory to make out a distinct form. James’ had a life of its own, it had preferences and affection. You could see distinct markings, even a scar that ran along its back. And Lily sadly realized that James must also have a scar in an equivalent region on his human body.

“I wanted to call him Bambi,” Remus said mischievously, “But this lot didn’t get the joke.” Lily snorted and turned herself to rest her head on James’ shoulder. She stretched an arm across his waist, wanting to feel closer to him.

“I think I need a nap to process all of this,” she grumbled pathetically into his shirt. She felt his chest rumble with restrained laughter as his hand came up to stroke her hair. His hands were forever tangled in her hair, but she couldn’t be bothered to be annoyed by it. He dragged his finger nails rhythmically along the base of her skull.

“Not surprising,” he said lifting her head to press a kiss to her forehead.

“This was all a lot easier when I thought you all were a bunch of conceited miscreants.”

“We do try,” Remus responded sarcastically. She wrinkled her nose at him.

“So _nobody_ else knows anything about this?” she asked them incredulously.

James scoffed as Remus answered, “Professor Dippet knew when I got my letter. Dumbledore was the one who advocated for me in the first place, and he was the one who came up with the solution for my furry little problem.” Her brow furrowed. “The Shrieking Shack,” he told her meaningfully. Oh, well, that explained all the stupid rumors about it being haunted. “And the Whomping Willow. It’s meant to keep nosy berks from wandering around.”

“Obviously it wasn’t enough,” she laughed, poking James in the stomach.

“No,” Remus said softly, “I use a passageway to get out of the castle the night of the full and take a passage through the Willow to the Shack. There’s a little notch at the base that immobilizes it if you know where it is, which I do. Pete’s small enough to get to it, so they usually follow after everyone’s gone to bed.”

“There’s a _passageway_ from the Whomping Willow to Hogsmeade?”

He shrugged, “They didn’t want the locals to see me walking around town so often after dark. Arouses suspicion.”

“So…then the professors have to know about your condition.” He nodded while James scoffed again.

“Imagine pulling one over on both Dippy _and_ Dumbly and _Minnie_. Not likely.”

“ _You’ve_ managed,” she snapped at him.

“Yeah well, they’re all blind to my charms.” It was her turn to scoff.

“It’s still really incredible.”

“Yeah?” James asked gently.

“ _Amazing_ ,” she looked up at him, holding his gaze, “Wonderful.” He bent and pressed a smiling kiss to her lips. She pressed another quick one before looking at Remus. “And this is why Sirius and Marlene..?”

“Not really,” James sighed.

“But sort of,” Remus amended, scratching Padfoot’s nose when he huffed loudly in offense. Remus chuckled and sunk a hand into the fur at the nape of his neck, stroking.

“Padfoot engages Moony a lot more than Wormtail and I can, so he’s usually knackered after the full. Sleeps almost as long as Moony does. And he’s usually the most injured…They rough house a lot…Playfully, but Moony doesn’t know his own strength most times.”

“Not to mention he gets very…attentive the week of,” Remus added regretfully. “Unfortunately, the days leading up to a full moon have a… adverse effect on me. I get restless and well…mean.”

“And Moony’s technically the alpha of our pack,” James informed her, “I’m the beta for sheer size, which makes Wormtail and Padfoot the submissive. But it seems to have a much stronger effect on Padfoot since they’re both canine. He gets antsy and tends to cater a little too much to Moony.” Sirius, eyes shut and in repose, growled at this, lips pulling back for effect. “Shut it, you know it’s true.” He huffed and burrowed against Remus. Peter played with his tail thoughtfully.

But then Sirius transformed back into his human form.

“All right, that’s enough,” he said drolly, “Quit maligning me.”

James snorted, “Not our fault you roll on your back for him.”

“Oi!” Sirius barked as Lily thwacked James’ chest. “Yeah, see? Even Evans is on my side.”

“That one _hurt_ ,” he whined, rubbing at the spot under Lily’s stink eye.

“You know, Prongs,” Peter said lacing his fingers behind his head as he propped his feet up on the coffee table, “There’s still _one thing_ she doesn’t know about…” The other boys glared at him in horror, Sirius went so far as to gasp.

“ _Wormtail_!” he breathed as if he’d just committed some egregious crime against humanity and all therein.

He rolled his eyes, “She already knows about the Cloak, Moony’s Monthlies, and the pack, might as well fully induct her.” The boys all shot looks at one another. They looked at Remus, who nodded. Then at Sirius, who shrugged. James let out another whiny little groan.

“But she’s _really_ going to shout about this one…”

“Prongs!”

“Fine!” he sighed, “Wormtail, it’s in my trunk.” Peter saluted and shot off into James’ dorm, quickly returning with a thickly folded bit of parchment in his hands. He laid it out very respectfully on the table in front of Lily. Like it was his most treasured possession.

“Blank parchment.”

“Not blank,” Remus corrected.

“But parchment,” Sirius added cheekily. James sneered at the pair of them before turning to Lily.

“Do you remember the day you jumped me on the grounds…?”

“I _beg_ your pardon?”

He panicked at his wording, “I’ve got three viable witnesses and none to contest it.”

“Somewhat accurate,” Remus agreed, and Peter said, “It was almost an attack…”

“Nah,” Sirius argued condescendingly, “I figure Lily behaved like a normal bird wanting a snog and Prongs reacted like some git first year.”

“ _Thank you_ , Padfoot,” Lily said sweetly. Sirius smiled widely at her and James frowned.

“I knew I would regret putting the two of you in a room together.”

“I haven’t even started,” she poked his stomach, “Now tell me. Cause yes, I do, in fact, remember.”

“Right, well, when we were going through the passageway, I told you the lads would know _exactly_ where we were once they started looking for us.”

“And I believed you, but you never explained why or how.”

He shot a rather woeful look at his friends who nodded solemnly. “There’ll be no living with her after this.”

“Best get on with it, mate.”

With a heavy sigh, James pulled his wand back out and tapped the front of the parchment, “I solemnly swear that _I_ am up to no good.”

Lily stared in bewilderment as an array of handwriting scrawled across the middle of the page, bleeding out of the parchment. 

_Mssrs_ _Moony_ _,_ _Padfoot,_ _Prongs, & _ _Wormtail_

_humbly present to the lovely Mlle Lily Evans_ _(the future Mme Prongs_ ),

 _The Marauder’s Map_.

Beneath the script bloomed the Hogwarts’ logo and what she assumed was the maker’s logo. She was still confused until James flicked his wand and the parchment unfolded into a sprawling and detailed map of the whole school. In shock, Lily gasped and stood up, picking up the map as she went, to get a better look. It was so _intricate_. Every corridor on every floor, every room accounted for. But what really did her in were the footprints. They suddenly appeared _everywhere_. And not only were they mobile, they had _names_ attached. Names of _real_ people currently living in the castle. Even Dumbledore! It hit her so hard that she sank to the floor shakily, still gripping the map tightly in her hands. Her eyes darted about looking for familiar names. There was Em in the Great Hall with Mary, there was Alice walking along a corridor with Frank, there was Sev in an empty potions classroom. All of it. Everyone.

“Where did you _get_ this?” she whispered harshly, unable to tear her eyes away from it, just in case she missed some crucial detail.

“I take it back,” Sirius said drolly, “I don’t want her on my side anymore. She’s obviously unobservant.”

“Give her a little credit, Padfoot,” Remus chastised, “She’s in shock.”

“Yes, but we put that opening in there for a reason,” Peter argued.

 _That_ was enough to pull her out of her daze. Lily looked up wildly at James, who was sporting a cocky close-lipped smile.

“ _You_..?”

“Made it,” he confirmed softly.

She looked back at the map, “But this…”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, there was a lot of trial and error. It was very complicated.”

Sirius snorted, “Do you not remember Map No. 3? I think _complicated_ is a rather simple term for that.” They bickered amongst themselves for a moment while Lily absorbed that information and continued examining their map. She even found _them_ in the Heads’ common, positioned exactly as they were in the room. The orientation and cardinal directions were all spot on, you could even see out into the grounds, all the way to the Forest. There was Sophie Alders and Derrick Rettig out by the Lake. The passageway they’d taken was marked, even several others she’d never seen along with little bubbles beside them with what she assumed were passwords. Filch and Mrs. Norris were tagged with angry red dots, and certain Slytherins were tagged with green.

“How…why did you even...?” She looked back up at James in distress, “I don’t even know what to say!”

“It really started second year after that day we put sticking charms all over the floor at random intervals in front of the Slytherin common. That was so—” Lily glared at him, nostrils flaring. “Right. Moving on. Obviously we did it the night before and we couldn’t all be under the Cloak. Wormtail was standing look out because he’s pants at Charms.”

“ _Was_ pants, thank you, past tense please.”

“Anyway, Filch almost got the drop on us, but Wormtail was the last to leave because he was standing watch. He had to wait for us to get away before he could.”

“And he’s _slow_ ,” Sirius carped, “We almost got caught going back for him.”

“ _So_ ,” Peter snapped, kicking out at Sirius, “I said to the lads that it would be nice if we knew where Filch and that heinous creature were at all times. That way we wouldn’t need a look out and we’d know if they were coming well before they ever got to us.”

“Thus, the idea was born. Hit a few roadblocks, couple of minor bumps—”

“ _Minor!?_ ” Remus shrieked, only for Sirius to pat him soothingly on the arm. James dismissed this. Or ignored it.

“But eventually we tweaked it enough so it could work.”

“Tweaked he says,” Remus muttered, “ _Enough_ , he says. Lily, that berk had us working on that thing for _years_ until it was up to his ludicrously high standard of perfection.”

“I know more Arithmancy than Vector does.  Her theorems are so pedestrian and inconsequential that I could gag,” Sirius groused, crossing his arms over his chest, as if she’d personally attacked him.

“I can translate Runes in my sleep,” Peter admitted miserably. “Fourth year I accidentally wrote an essay for McGonagall all in Runes without realizing it. Kept a close watch on me for a while after that.” He shook his head ruefully, remembering how awful her mini-interrogations had been. She’d threatened to send it to Dumbledore for a translation, which would have been terrible because it would have given away Peter’s in-depth understanding of the language that exceeded his official skill-level. He shuddered.

“You’re all big babies. It was _fine_ ,” James said petulantly, earning him glares from his friends. “Moony did a lot of the cartography and I worked most of the charms. The real trick was getting the more accurate interpretation of the Runes to weave into Sirius’ numbers. But every little variation required a different set of charms in a different order otherwise it went haywire.”

“ _Haywire_?” Remus demanded furiously. Sirius was forced to restrain him a little, or, at least, keep him seated.

“Okay,” Lily said, caving to the curiosity, “What did you do that upset Remus?”

James sighed long and loudly. “There are certain charms in place…”

“Which _you_ were responsible for,” Remus barked.

“Yes, thank you Moony, I’m forever forgetting.” He rolled his eyes. “I put certain charms in place that prevent unwanted persons from gaining access to the Map. For one particular iteration, before we had everything charted, we thought it _might_ be a good idea for the Map to give the user directions. You know, it was practical.”

“A terrible decision really,” Peter mused.

James scowled, “It was a good idea in theory, but the spellwork for the directions clashed with the protective charms.”

“And?”

“And, going rogue, the Map led poor Moony here to an old dungeon used for detentions with a door that was charmed to shut and lock behind the occupant.” Her brow furrowed. “ _From the outside_ ,” he told her with a wince.

“Oh Merlin…”

“He may or may not have been locked in there for a whole day…”

“Until _Filch_ found me!” Remus snarled.

James tossed his hands up, “I have apologized a hundred times! I jumped starkers into the lake in _November_ even though the Squid was particularly vicious that day. _And_ I told Moaning Myrtle I fancied her with _four_ witnesses. And I even got that chocolate from Belgium that you love. What else would you have me do?”

Lily set the Map down, giggling too hard to see straight, “You made him tell Myrtle he fancied her?” They all had a good laugh at James’ expense, remembering that day (and the subsequent month of her popping up in random places where he was) very fondly.

“I told him the spellwork was too fussy and complex, _he_ didn’t listen.”

“Shocker, that.”

“Hardy-har-har-har, glad we can all laugh at me now. Finished yet?” he snatched the Map from her hands a little spitefully and tapped it again, “ _Mischief Managed_.” And all of the ink disappeared, like a blot drying up, and the parchment snapped smartly back into folds. Lily, feeling a little bad about making fun of him, crawled up into his lap with a smirk and peppered his scowling face with kisses.

“Aww, come on Jamie, quit pouting,” she teased before kissing his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she kissed his other cheek as his friend hooted in merriment behind them, “But it _is_ a little funny,” she whispered against his lips. Lily was blocking them from his friends’ view, so they weren’t privy to the exasperated but stupidly in love, dopey look on his face, which was in everyone’s best interest. She smiled down at him, feeling the gleam in her own eyes. She was a little overwhelmed with all the new information, overly impressed by him, and starting to get keyed up because of it. Lily was about 80% sure that if they were alone, she would have already stripped him naked, and they hadn’t even gotten _close_ to that yet. He captured her lips for a long kiss until they were interrupted by a very loud and forced _ah-HEM_! They broke apart to look over at the three very bemused faces across from them.

“Gentlemen, I think it’s time we were going.”

“Agreed!” Peter, obviously embarrassed, and jumped to his feet squeaked. “Later Prongs, bye Lily!” And he sped out.

Remus rolled his eyes, getting up a little more smoothly, “Have a nice night, you two.” Lily grabbed his hand as he went, making him stop for a moment.

“Can we talk later?” she asked weakly. But he smiled and nodded, and then squeezed her hand and followed after Peter. Sirius was speaking to James in French (of all the damn things), and James was responding easily in English. When James gave a final answer, Sirius clapped his hands together and hummed his indifference. He grabbed James’ head to kiss him loudly on the forehead, and then he took up Lily’s hand and bowed over it.

“Au revoir, ma soeur rousse.” Then he did a delicate little spin and followed his friends out the door.

Lily, laughing, looked at her boyfriend, completely baffled, “What was _that_?” she asked around a giggle.

“That,” James informed her as he manhandled her into a more comfortable position on his lap, “Was Padfoot’s daily dose of drama.” He sighed happily and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “You’ll get used to it.”

“Probably,” she agreed a little more easily than he’d expected. She moved up to straddle him, neatly removing his glasses, and rolled her hips forward just so.

“ _Merlin bloody buggering fuck_ ,” he gritted out, his fingers digging into the flesh above her hips as she moved.

“What did he say to you?” she asked innocently, her fingers scraping through the hair at the base of his skull. While his brain raced for an answer, Lily bent to kiss and lick at his neck, nipping lightly at his jaw. She could feel and see as the heat bloomed in his cheeks, burning a bright red.

“Uhm,” he coughed, she felt the subtle upward movement of his hips against her, abortive as it was, “Pads assumes any two people left alone are obviously going to shag.” She felt his throat work down a thick swallow. “Just taking the piss.”

“Oh really?” she asked airily, pulling back with a pout, “So you don’t want to shag me?” Much to her pleasure, James’ pupils dilated sharply and she giggled shrilly as he flipped them so that she was pinned underneath him on the couch.

“I would shag you silly,” he growled around kisses, “at the first opportunity.” Lily sighed happily as they got swept away in their coming together. She wrapped her leg around his, urging him to where she wanted pressure. A moan rumbled up from his chest as he moved his thigh against her; he angled his head to deepen their kiss, tangling their tongues together. His hands were preoccupied with keeping his weight off of her, but she slid hers under his shirt and up the smooth expanse of his skin. But then she felt something scratching at her back.

“James…” she mumbled, trying to arch away from it. “James, wait,” she sat up abruptly, nearly dislodging him from her. She thrust her hands around on the couch and it landed on a thick roll of parchment. She sighed and pulled it out to show to him. “Map,” she informed him. As Lily tossed it deftly onto the coffee table where it would be safe from their amorous activities, James was pulling her back to him to keep kissing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amortentia

In 1978, James Potter and Lily Evans were paired up during Potions to practice brewing Amortentia for their NEWTs.

 *

In 2019, Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley were paired up during Potions to practice brewing Amortentia for their NEWTs.

* 

In 1978, Lily Evans was ranked first in her class for Potions, and was widely considered to be the expert.

*

In 2019, Rose Weasley was ranked first in her class for Potions, and was widely considered to be the expert.

*

1978, James Potter was only taking Potions because he possibly wanted to be an Auror, and his marks fell somewhere in the middle primarily due missing assignments.

*

In 2019, Scorpius Malfoy was only taking Potions because he couldn’t decide between becoming a Herbologist and continuing his work with magical creatures as a veterinarian, but he needed it for both. And his marks were only just below Rose’s.

*

In 1978, James and Lily were dating already and so they worked easily with one another. Lily had a knack for timing and an intuition for preparation, but she was always making a mess and spreading her materials too far out, forgetting where she left things. James, on the other hand, was obnoxiously tidy and very precise. He kept their books and notes evenly together, their ingredients lined up neatly in the order she dictated, and he cut everything to her exact specifications. He trusted her gut on how to proceed, and she trusted him to provide her with what she needed.

 * 

In 2019, Rose and Scorpius were secretly dating already and so they bickered constantly as they worked in time with each other. Scorpius fretted over the timing and the temperature of the cauldron, wanting to follow the book to the letter. Rose knew that it was best to let the mixture warm up gradually and to add certain ingredients _before_ it boiled, and to let it cool off before adding the next ones, the textbook be damned. Scorpius fretted and Rose bossed, but their worked was even and precise, and without question, the best in the class. Rose knew that Scorpius was terrified of failure and Scorpius knew that Rose took for granted that she would succeed, and so they both kept each other on task.

 *

In 1978, James Potter and Lily Evans were _furious_.

 *

In 2019, Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley were _disappointed._

 * 

In 1978, James and Lily turned to each other at the same time and shouted, “What did you do?”

“Me?” they shouted back at each other unison.

“I didn’t do anything!” Again with the shouting in unison.

“Well,” Lily snipped crossing her arms, “if neither one of us can smell anything then we did it _wrong_. And I am absolutely _positive_ that I did everything correctly.”

“And I am _absolutely positive_ ,” he mocked back, “that I did everything exactly as you said. Otherwise, _you would have said so_.”

Lily wrinkled her nose furiously, biting back impulsive words before she took a step towards him and hissed, “Well if you had bothered to take a shower this morning after being gone all night with _you know who_ doing _you know what_ then you wouldn’t smell like _deer_ , and I would be able to smell the bloody potion!” she gritted between her teeth, making sure that the people around her saw her stiff smile. Peter and Sirius however, had caught the scent of their little spat (and had given up on their batch twenty minutes previous when it turned brown and belched at them) and grinned at each other.

“Oh _please_ ,” he said tossing his hands up, “like anyone in this room can smell anything over your sodding _sandalwood rose_ perfume. Did _you_ shower in it this morning?”

“ _Excuse me?!?_ ”

Sirius had to shove Peter off of his chair to prevent him from laughing and giving their eavesdropping away.

“I just don’t see how we’re supposed to be able to pick out smells from the potion when all I can smell is…” Sirius watched as his best friend straightened up like he often did in stag form when he heard some Forest creature approaching. Lily, in turn, was alarmed by his sudden stillness. “ _Oh_.”

“Oh?” Lily snapped. “Oh what?”

Peter dissolved into giggles from the floor. Sirius kicked him.

 * 

In 2019, Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley too had a fraught moment of panic thinking they had messed up their potion, though they each blamed themselves instead of each other.

“I must have messed up your directions.”

“I would have noticed if you had. Obviously I overheated it or stirred it incorrectly.”

“No, I was watching all of that, you were doing it right. I probably didn’t get enough juice from the leech…”

“I just would have told you to get another one. It gets a lot of its color from leech juice, I would have noticed it. And it wouldn’t look like _that_. Maybe I added the salamander blood too soon..?”

They were quiet for a long moment, staring at the perfect spirals floating up from the thick, mother-of-pearl colored potion.

“Did you polish your broomstick this morning?” he asked her quietly.

“Nooo, I was running behind, remember?”

“Right.”

“You didn’t…you weren’t in the greenhouse today were you?”

 He shook his head, “Early breakfast, then double Runes.”

“Right.”

“Well,” he whispered from where they stood bent over their cauldron, “then I definitely smell lemon broom polish, umbrella flowers, and ink.”

“I use lemon broom polish,” she informed him very quietly.

“I know.”

“And umbrella flowers are my favorite…”

“Ironic, but yes, I know, considering I distilled that perfume for your birthday.”

“ _Ink_ , really?”

He scowled, “What do you smell then?”

With a smirk, Rose inhaled deeply again, “Fertilizer, cinnamon, and old books.”

“You’re always shouting at me for smelling like fertilizer.”

“I’m aware.”

“And you’re the only one who knows I put cinnamon in my tea.”

“A strange, strange habit, for sure, but yes, I do know.”

They cut their eyes to look at each other, smiling through their furious blushes. Across the room, Delilah Finnigan nudged at Al Potter, tipping her head toward his cousin and his best friend. He made a pained face and could be heard muttering about stupidly obvious gits who were completely oblivious or just _thick_ for the rest of class.

* 

In 1978, James Potter snapped out of his lovesick stupor.

“You! You daft cow, I smell _you_!” And if the rest of their Potions class hadn’t been aware that their Head Boy and Girl were an item, then they definitely did after that. Because Lily’s mouth gaped open just a little as she processed that she also smelled him, her whole face burned a bright red, and then she snatched his head down to hers to snog him soundly. Sirius, Peter, and Marlene (who was paired up with some boring Ravenclaw in the back) cheered at the sight, but Slughorn was a little miffed.

“That’ll do, the two of you, that’ll do! Enough of that, I won’t be giving my best students detention for public indecency!” He stopped over their potion, however, running a ladle through it and using a dropper to spoon it into a vial. “ _Very_ good work, though, I must say,” he shook the vial to get a better sense of the rich color, “ _Exceptional_ work.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the subject of patronuses.

In 2019, Rose Weasley had never expressed much of an interest in learning to cast a patronus.  She knew the theory, wand movement, and much of the lore behind the charm, but it had always seemed superfluous. She wanted to become a Curse Breaker, not an Auror. So even though the majority of her cousins could cast corporeal forms, Rose had never attempted the charm beyond the three or four times in her fifth year. However, since her mother had graduated from Hogwarts, the school now required all seventh years to learn proper casting of it. It wasn’t so much that they were _required_ to produce a corporeal form as it was that they were required to attempt it again.

Like Potions, Gryffindors were paired with Slytherins for Defence, which suited Rose and Al just fine. Scorpius, however, was very, very worried.

* 

In 1978, Lily Evans had only vaguely heard of a patronus charm during her extracurricular reading Flitwick had recommended. As she hadn’t quite decided what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, her decision was to take as many NEWTs as possible in order to create options. A Defence NEWT required a basic understanding of the patronus, as well as a legitimate attempt at a non-corporeal form. She was somewhat concerned because all of her reading indicated that it was incredibly advanced, and that many people couldn’t perform the spell to any effect. James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter promised to help her any way they could, as all four could cast a corporeal form, but it was more a matter of the mind. A matter of the soul. She’d read somewhere that wizards who worked with the Dark Arts were incapable of performing it to any degree.

Her first thought was to wonder if Sev would be able to.

* 

In 2019, Scorpius’ leg was bouncing under the table where he sat between Rose and Al. Both looked at him oddly, but neither said a word. Silently, both of them attributed his anxiety to the sins of his father. Earlier that morning, some nasty Ravenclaw suggested that the children of death eaters probably couldn’t cast a patronus by telling everyone snidely that _evil was catching_. Rose had some choice words for her (and both Frank and Donnie had been forced to restrain her until she calmed down). Logically, both of them knew that it was a stupid idea and probably not founded in any truth at all. But in their secret hearts, they were anxious and prepared to hate Draco Malfoy to the end of eternity if he’d somehow tainted his son. Even Frank had seemed put off, and Frank was adamant that who your parents were had nothing to do with your own self.

Scorpius’ real concern however, couldn’t be further from his father’s history. In fact, Scorpius already knew he could perform the spell. He already had a corporeal form. The summer before fifth year, his father had sat him down and explained that he wasn’t able to cast the charm. It was a repercussion he’d come to terms with, but Draco was desperate to prove to Scorpius that this didn’t have to effect his future. Draco taught him the spell. He coached and advised him all summer until his form took shape. That single achievement was one of the things that Scorpius was truly proud of; the relief on his father’s face was enough to soothe Scorpius’ nerves for a lifetime.

No, Scorpius was actually worried about _Rose_.

While studying up on the spell, he’d come to realize that forms were very, very telling about a person. They were the essence of the soul, pure goodness and joy coming from the heart of you. And Scorpius had been a little…surprised…by his own form. He’d expected it to materialize as something more _Malfoy_ , a snake, an eagle, maybe a griffin or a dragon. Much to his father’s bemusement, Scorpius’ patronus was decidedly _Gryffindor_.  Somewhat concerned, he’d gone to see the expert: Harry Potter.

Scorpius’ relationship with the hero of the wizarding world and his best friend’s father was unique. They’d met several times before Scorpius came to stay with the Potters for weeks during the summers. During Easter hols fourth year, Scorpius had diligently flooed Mr. Potter every day with updates about Al and how he was doing. It was a horribly awkward situation, but Scorpius was determined to make sure that the Potters knew he wasn’t trying to turn Al against them or any of that rot. As a result, when Scorpius had concerns he thought were too delicate or too fraught to take to his father, he sought Mr. Potter out for advice. What he’d learned was this: patronus forms were very personal and not something to be taken lightly.

“However,” Mr. Potter told him firmly, “they don’t dictate who you are and they don’t tell you who you love. A patronus is an expression of your innermost self, of things you may not even be aware of.”

“I am a Malfoy.”

“Yes.”

“And a Slytherin. So if what you’re saying is true, then I’ve failed in both.” He’d sighed. “Or maybe I’m just not good enough.”

Mr. Potter had smiled at him, “I think that your form indicates a balance of sorts.” He’d paused, regarding they boy thoughtfully. “Try not to get upset with me now, but one of your father’s greatest failings when we were young was that he was a coward.”  Scorpius had frowned deeply, but Mr. Potter waved him off. “He had to make some very serious choices that should never have been presented to him. So it’s neither here nor there. He didn’t choose well, and I’m almost positive he’d tell you the same.”

“He has.”

“Good. Now in my opinion that form coming from you means Draco has managed to raise a decent and good human being. But truthfully, even if your patronus had come out as a snake or a scorpion or something deadly, my opinion on that point wouldn’t be any different. I would still sit here and tell you that your form doesn’t dictate you, you dictate it. And who you are is a very fluid concept even for someone my age.”

“That’s—thank you.”

“You’re welcome. There’s one more thing you should be aware of. Patronuses can change. It’s rare, but it happens. In fact, I know of two specific instances.”

“Why would they change? Like…if you do something really, really bad?”

“No. It’s because of something that happens _to_ you. Great emotional upheavals, usually where love is involved. For example, there was a man who loved my mother a good deal. After she died, his patronus matched hers, a doe.”

“So, it’s more sadness that changes it. I suppose that makes sense…But can people have the same patronus without all the…feelings?”

Mr. Potter had barked out a laugh, “Yes, yes they can. Actually, mine is the same as my father’s, a stag.”

“Oh. Your parents both had deer?”

“Mhmm.”

“But Rose said that her mum’s was an otter and her dad’s was a dog.”

“That’s right. And Mrs. Potter’s is a horse, actually.” That was _kind of_ like a deer. And otters were sort of like water dogs…

“So why did your parents have the same one? But not the same….because they were different genders. But that man you were talking about his changed to hers exactly, to a doe instead of a stag. Does that matter?”

Mr. Potter had smiled sadly, “Scorpius, I think it matters a whole lot.”  

So in 2019, Scorpius was very anxious not only about Rose’s reaction his form, but also about what _her_ form would be.

* 

In 1978, the Defence classroom was full of Gryffindors shooting wisps of silvery light at each other. Lily had tried once, still getting nothing more than short streams of light. She really was trying, but she was too nervous about the technical part of it. And when she searched for a happy memory, something really strong from her childhood, it was tarnished by Petunia’s or Sev’s presence. Lily wanted to sob at the thought of Petunia. Petunia who had finally decided to speak to her after getting engaged. Petunia who would have gladly banned her sister from the wedding if not for her mother’s intervention. It wasn’t _James’_ fault, damn it! He’d been nervous and trying too hard and he’d never really been around muggles. Vernon was just horrid! How could Tuney not see that? Lily snapped her eyes shut, trying to take a deep breath and steady herself. She couldn’t think about her sister right now, she had to focus.

In the back of the room, (where Lily had banished them), the Marauders were watching their classmates’ attempts with some amusement. A few of them were spectacularly thick and wildly untalented. The boys had already produced their forms, much to everyone’s admiration. All of their forms were so wonderfully alive and visceral. It was difficult not to be impressed. Peter’s was a rat, an identical twin to his animagus. Sirius’, however, only looked a little like his animagus form. Actually, as it had come to nuzzle against Lily, she noticed that the dog looked remarkably wolf-like. Her amused smirk in Remus’ direction had made the poor boy blush and shrug. Remus’ form was an enormous wolf, very regal-looking with a scar across it’s snout that matched a faint one on Remus’ face. Everyone had been appropriately captivated by it. James’ stag, gorgeous as always, attracted enough attention to tamper down his jealous tendencies.

As James snickered at Sonia Martel accidentally shocking herself and being knocked to her arse, Sirius nudged him with an elbow and jerked his head toward a particularly miserable looking Lily. Bystanders probably thought she was upset that she couldn’t perform the charm yet. James assumed that all of her memories were quagmires of disappointment and insecurities. That happens when your sister and former best mate are utter shite human beings. She had specifically told him _not_ to help her in class because she wanted to be able to focus, and apparently his looking on would make her nervous. But, seeing as she wasn’t attempting anything and therefore didn’t have anything to focus on, James decided to break her rules. With a sigh, he launched himself from his seat, shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered over.  Lily looked up as he sat down next to her.

“It’s tough,” he told her slowly and cut her off before she could argue, “to pick a memory that’s strong enough. Especially the first time. It’s gotta be sturdy. And vivid. But once you keep at it, all you have to do is focus on the feeling of it. Different experience.”

She bit her lip, “What do you think about?” He waggled his eyebrows and she hit him for it.

“Taking the piss,” he sighed, sitting forward with his arms folded. “The first time, that was like….it must have been third year because we needed it for…you know.”

“I do.”

“Anyway, originally, I thought about coming back to school for second year. Seeing the lads all together again.” He snapped, “But don’t you dare tell them that because it’s horribly embarrassing.”

She smiled, “Your secret’s safe. What about now?” She had to admit, she was a little worried about the answer. But his eyes lost a little of their edge and he bit the inside of his bottom lip.

“Little more complicated now. The memory part’s an exercise in focusing on the actual feeling of true joy and real happiness. It’s a focal point, not really a requirement.” Her brow furrowed, somewhat skeptical. “I think about a lot of things,” he admitted with a tight grin, “But I’ve got a lot to think about.” Lily blushed, smiling and sighing through her nose. But he broke the mood by slapping his thighs loudly and jumping up from his seat.

“Come on then, Evans, up up!” He grabbed her wrists and hauled her to her feet, making sure to straighten her out before taking a step back behind her. With a surprising amount of restraint, he innocently adjusted her stance and wand hand into position, speaking lowly as he did.

“All right, I want you to think about your date with Chad Fenwick.”

“ _What_?” she spluttered. She tried to turn around to see what he was on about, but James only chuckled and fixed her head to face straight ahead.

“You heard me, Chad Fenwick. Think about that day first. About how bored you were, the confusion when Pete tossed the smoke bomb, being properly grateful when you realized what we’d done—”

“Cocky toerag.”

“Focus, young lady,” he teased. “Have you got it?” She nodded, closing her eyes and remembering her cheerfulness as she skipped down the street in Hogsmeade, arm in arm with Remus and Sirius. That had definitely been a good day, but…

“When we got to our spot, I sent my stag to fetch the girls, remember?” She did. “He touched you. Do you remember what it felt like?” She did. Her whole body had filled with a warmth she thought would tear her skin apart. She’d been giddy, high from the pure joy radiating from it. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling. “Grab hold of it, bottle it up, trap it down.” She inhaled sharply. “Got it?” She nodded. “Say the incantation and _then_ let it go.”

“But—” she tried to argue.

“Trust me.” So she did. As she wrangled that intoxicating feeling down into the pit of her belly, Lily moved her wand in the whorl shape and spoke the words firmly. On the last syllable, she felt James’ lips at her neck and shivered. She let the feeling up, let herself feel it fully. It raced up from within her, charging forward, so that she nearly cried out. But her wand had become an extension of herself. Everything she felt pushed forward in bulge of light that streamed forth, taking shape as it went. Lily was so caught off guard that she couldn’t even gasp.

A doe.

* 

In 2019, Rose Weasley had no shortage of happy memories to choose from, so she decided to focus on the most recent because it was the most vivid. She and Scorpius, and Al and Delilah, had been spending a lot of time together recently, but they still weren’t sure how to tell Al that they were together. They decided to butter him up during a trip to Hogsmeade and then took him over to a secret spot near the Lake that Rose and Lily had come across years ago. Lily had fallen in love with it immediately, telling her that the place gave her the best kind of goosebumps, and that she felt really happy and loved just by being there. Naturally, she’d sworn Rose to secrecy, not wanting the place to be ruined by a bunch of other people. Rose decided that since it was their seventh year, it was fine to tell him about it. So they went and lazed about, eating sweets, and jumping into the water. A perfect day really, with a perfect ending. Rose confessed their secret to Al, who had burst into happy laughter, laughing so hard he had to hold his sides and wipe tears from his face.

“You _dolts_ ,” he’d said between guffaws, “I knew that before _you_ did!”

So after a couple of tries, Rose was able to produce a full-bodied lioness that had sauntered about the room like she owned it and then sprawled out in front of Al as if demanding a belly scratch. Al obliged, smiling like an idiot as he did so.

Scorpius, however, was decidedly _not_ smiling. In fact, he looked like someone had dunked him into freezing water, a trifecta of fear and panic and shock. Rose’s excitement dwindled quickly and her lion vanished. Even more perturbing, Scorpius had shot from his seat next to her where he’d been waiting his turn to ask their visiting-instructor (whose name Rose missed and couldn’t remember) if he could perform the charm for him after class in private. _Nerves_ , he claimed loud enough for the others to hear, he didn’t think he could focus properly with so many people around. The instructor agreed since it was such a personal process, and assured Scorpius that it was nothing to be ashamed of, really. It was a thing that took some getting used to, and to practice it properly, he would grant all kinds of accommodations. Relieved, Scorpius returned to his seat beside Rose and stayed quiet for the rest of class, watching the others attempt the spell.

By the end of class, Delilah’s was still non-corporeal, but Al produced a massive, gorgeous phoenix. The instructor, aware of who Al was as well as his namesake, had looked at him oddly, but didn’t say anything. There were only two people in the class who couldn’t produce even wisps, both had recently lost someone and exceptions were made so they could reschedule practice sessions.

Rose was waiting outside the classroom for Scorpius. He had remained behind to perform the charm, assuring her that it would only take a moment. The sudden confidence was confusing. If he was so sure that he could do it, then why pretend to be nervous? It was a contradiction that her Granger blood could not abide. So instead of patiently waiting like a good little girlfriend, Rose snuck quietly to the door, pushed it open just so and peeked in to watch. At first, Scorpius and the instructor were just talking. Chatting, actually. But that wasn’t really odd because Scorpius’ family knew a lot of people and he was pretty sociable when he chose to be. Then she heard what they were actually saying.

“…impressive if you have.”

“It took me all summer, but it was full-bodied by the end of it.”

“You father must be a good teacher.”

Scorpius nodded with a shrug, “He got advice from Mr. Potter, but yes, he really is.” Rose’s jaw dropped. His father had gone to her uncle for _help_? With what? And why had he never told her?

“I’m not surprised Harry was able to help. He was only fifteen when he was teaching the rest of us, you know. Never broke a rule in my life til I teamed up with that lot,” the man laughed.

“Yeah, he was really great.”

“All right then, Mr. Malfoy, let’s see what you can do.” Rose strained to see better as he confidently cast the charm, a form immediately taking shape. Four legs, a long body, and a magnificent mane. It prowled through the room, turning suddenly and bounding straight for the door. Straight for her. Rose hid behind the door, missing the way it faded through the crack.

The instructor whistled, “Bet your dad had a _fit_.”

She heard Scorpius chuckle, “Not really. Just proud I think. You would know, Mr. Creevey.” _Right_ , that was his name. Old friend of her uncle’s, actually. His brother died in the war.

“I would…I also know that a lion is a record for the books…”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, the last known wizard to produce a lion as a patronus was Godric Gryffindor.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s true. Well known fact actually, that the founders used their animagus forms as part of the House crests. And as you ought to know, animagus and patronus forms are typically identical.”

“That’s—“

“Enough to make a Malfoy cringe!” Mr. Creevey laughed good naturedly. Rose darted back to the opening to look. Scorpius seemed a little bewildered, but Mr. Creevey had a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I tease, I tease. Nothing to fret about. I’m damn impressed as a matter of fact.” She heard some scribbling on parchment. “And two of the same patronus?” Mr. Creevey scoffed, “Haven’t heard of that happening in…”

“About forty years, I expect,” Scorpius interrupted dully. What in Merlin’s left tit did that mean? Had he honestly done so much research on patronuses. She knew the Department of Mysteries kept full records of known patronuses for research purposes. The Auror’s office kept an unofficial one too. How would he have figured that out?

“ _Ohh_ , you really have been talking to Harry, haven’t you?” Mr. Creevey asked provocatively. She saw Scorpius blush from head to toe, hand reaching up to fluff his hair like James was always doing. Mr. Creevey laughed at him. “Take my advice, son, and don’t tell her until you need back in her good graces. _That one_ will get you out of just about anything.”

“Mr. Creevey, if I ever get in that much trouble with Rose, I’ll take my chances with the squid.”

Oh _Merlin_ , they were talking about her. About her patronus. A lion—no, a _lioness_. Scorpius had the lion. And that was—well, she didn’t exactly know what that was. It was big and confusing and she was still feeling drained from casting the charm. She squeaked in panic when she heard the two of them saying their goodbyes and tried her best to position herself behind the door so Scorpius wouldn’t see her as he came out. She didn’t account for him shutting the door behind him.

He turned and took an abortive step in her direction, scowling once he realized who he’d almost bumped into.

“Eavesdropping, are we?” he asked her caustically. When she struggled to answer, he took a decisive step around her and strode angrily down the hall. Rose had to quicken her pace to keep up.

“I’m sorry,” she whined pathetically, “It was a mistake! I was just worried that—!”

He stopped abruptly, rounding on her, “That I couldn’t do it?” he demanded, eyebrows straight up. Rose’s stomach clenched. They both knew why people might think that.

“ _No_ , that you didn’t _think_ you could do it!” she snapped, equally angry now. What did he take her for? “Because that would have been utter shite and I didn’t want you to be alone just in case you lost your confidence.” She watched him deflate, the harried look in his eyes fading along with his dissipating indignity at her spying. “Why didn’t you tell me you could already cast it?”

He sighed and started to walk away from her again, much more slowly this time. “We’d just become friends that year. And I rarely discussed my father with Al, let alone new friends. And—you know what I was like.” She did. Terrified that the second things got tough, he would lose everyone.  They walked quietly for a while, through corridors, through greetings to friends they passed.

“Scorpius, what does it mean that we have the same patronus?”

“We don’t have the same one,” he said too quickly.

“Yes, we do. I saw it. They’re both lions.” She watched him stop and hesitate, looking around for a moment before he took her hand and led her to a bench under the stained glass window of Glanmore Peakes. They sat and he tried to keep a respectable distance between them (because he was constantly paranoid that her cousins or brother would pop up from somewhere), but Rose wasn’t having it. She scooched closer so they were thigh to thigh and she wound her arm through his, bringing their palms together and lacing their fingers. _No space_ , she declared bodily. Rose didn’t like when he pulled back from her in any capacity; it certainly wasn’t happening now. Scorpius didn’t seem too fussed or surprised by this behavior, though.

“They’re not the same. Yes, they’re both lions, but they’re distinct. Different but equal.”

“A pair.”

“ _Partners_. Like Bonnie and Clyde. Jack and Rose. Gomez and Morticia. Spike and Buffy—”

“I will _fight_ you.”

He smirked, working his mouth to stop a provocative comment. “ _Anyway_ , the point is that you are you and I am me, and patronuses don’t dictate who we are or who we…they don’t decide anything.”

Rose narrowed her eyes, “You’re being wily.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Uh- _huh_ because Mr. Creevey—” (she was _really_ glad she figured out his name) “said that it was rare, and that it hadn’t happened in a long time. And _you_ said not in about _forty_ years! That’s a little specific for not knowing anything!” she nudged him with her shoulder, “So spill.”

“ _Weasleys_ ,” he grumbled, fidgeting.

“ _Malfoys_ ,” she shot back, making a face at him.

With a slight roll, he cut his eyes away from her, choosing to look down the hall instead. “Your Uncle Harry told me that his parents’ patronuses were a stag and a doe.” He paused, looking back at her as if waiting for a reaction. She patently refused to give one. Even though a little thrill shot down her spine at the thought. She’d been to Godric’s Hollow. She’d seen pictures of his parents around Potter Manor. You never could find one without the other, and they always looked so deliriously happy. _In love_ , her stupid brain amended. _They had obviously been in love_.

“He also told me that there was another man, and he was in love with Harry’s mum too. After she died, his patronus turned into a doe.”

“What was it before?”

“I don’t know.”

“So she and…this man had the exact same patronus…so what?”

He took a deep breath. “A long time ago, my dad told me about his potions professor here at school. He was my father’s House Head and mentor apparently.”

“Was he a Death Eater?”

“It’s complicated.” She didn’t see how. “He had the mark, but he was a spy. My father told me that after the war ended, it came to light that this man, this professor, had been working with Dumbledore the whole time. That he’d defected from the Death Eaters because Tom Riddle killed the woman he loved.”

“You think the man Uncle Harry talked about and the man your father told you about are the same man?” He answered with a curt nod. “But—Lily Potter was a muggle born. If this man loved her how could he be a Death Eater?”

He shook his head ruefully, “I don’t know.”

They were quiet for a moment, not looking at each other but hands tightly clasped together.

“Teddy said his mum’s form changed too. Before his parents got together, his dad had issues or whatever. Rejected her. Broke her heart. Her form changed to his.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. He says sometimes that he’s not sure if they would have stayed together had they lived. He’s got their old letters and things. She loved him more than he loved her.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah…It sounds like people with forms that have changed are really, really sad…That it’s unequal.” He was nodding. “Do you think—? I mean if we hadn’t…” She sighed. “Do you think that if we hadn’t gotten together that mine would still be a lion?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.

“How can you possibly be so sure?”

“Because I learned the spell the summer after fourth year.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. I didn’t really understand what my father meant when he said to think of a happy memory. I was happy a lot of times.” He shrugged. “I don’t remember being sad very often before I came to school. And even then people were teasing me because of my father, but I love my father, and I don’t know the man who fought in the war, I just know the bloke who makes mum laugh and who just figured out that he loves knitting the muggle way and won’t stop sending me lumpy, mismatched socks.” She was giggling right along with him by the end of that speech. Because it was true that his father was a _huge_ dork. She’d read some of his letters, it was terrible. “So when I finally realized what kind of memory I needed,” he said much more gently, “I thought of that day after Easter hols, when you came over to the Slytherin table to sit with me and Al.”

She wrinkled her nose, “Really?”

“Yeah. Al was so _happy_. And you looked like you were relieved he was just talking to you. And I—I had this moment when I realized that we could be friends. It only lasted a moment, but it was big. So I held onto it and produced a full form.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very strong memory,” she added, not a little self-deprecatingly. He laughed.

“Maybe not. But before then it was sort of a foregone conclusion that I’d never have real, actual friends who liked me for me and not because of my name.”

“You had Al, and Donnie, and Frank” Rose pointed out.

“Which I always privately thought was because Al was alone in Slytherin and because the rest felt sorry for me or obligated or something.”

“Al’s not like that. Frank and _Donnie_ aren’t like that.”

“I know that _now_. I figured it out in that moment when you came to us instead of the other way around.”

She kissed his cheek, “That was a good day for me too.” She squeezed his hand. “But we’re talking around the point here. How can you be so sure that our forms wouldn’t have been different if we hadn’t become friends? Or if we hadn’t gotten together.”

“Because with each other we’ve always been exactly ourselves. We don’t back down from discussions just because they’re uncomfortable, and we don’t ask each other to make concessions.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, for example, I don’t tell you to stop practicing Quidditch when you could be studying even though you complain about not having enough time to study. Because I know that Quidditch is your favorite thing and it helps you focus. And you don’t tell me to quit playing in dirt and obsessing over my projects to pay more attention to you because you know it’s important to me.”

“But that’s just common sense.”

“I don’t think it’s common to everyone.”

“But we’re partners and we take care of each other.” She turned to him, brain whirring. “A patronus is a physical manifestation of the soul.” Scorpius nodded. “Partners, equals, even in spirit.”

“Rose…”

“You think we’re soulmates.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re thinking it, aren’t you? And you didn’t want me to know, so you did the spell in private, and now you’re panicking. You’re freaking out.”

With a scowl he raised their clasped hands to eye level , “Does it _look_ like I’m freaking out to you?”

“Yes!” He pinched his face in irritation. “Then why else would you try to hide it from me? Did you think that I would—? I mean did you expect me to—?”

He tossed up his free hand, gesturing broadly, “I don’t know what I expected. I panicked! We’re barely seventeen, we’ve only been going out for a few months.”

“We were friends a lot longer!”

“I know!” he shot back too sharply. “But it’s a little intense don’t you think?”

“Do you—” she halted, choking on her words. “Do _you_ think it’s too intense?”

“No.” The word popped out of his mouth before he even had time to think it through. And he found that as soon as he said it, that he absolutely believed it. But she didn’t look like she believed him, and he could feel her hand loosening its grip. Scorpius tugged their hands into his lap, putting his free one on top. “No, I don’t. But I think that people are stupid. And stupid people say stupid things that they shouldn’t. And I never want you to think that you don’t have a choice. I didn’t want you to feel—trapped.”

“Trapped,” she echoed slowly.

He shrugged, “I know how much you hate Divination, but there are people who would try to tell you that we’re destined to be together. Like we didn’t make decisions on our own. Like we didn’t actively choose to be together. And as much as I want you to feel like we’re in this together…forever…I don’t want you to feel like…”

“We’re stuck together forever,” she finished, everything clicking into place. “Did you ever think that maybe I _want_ to be stuck with you forever?”

He blushed, “That’s the dream, Ro, not the reality. And I absolutely didn’t want a bloody _patronus_ to be the deciding factor.” With a sigh, she pulled his arm around her shoulder and leaned into him. She let her eyes drift shut as he kissed her forehead.

“You have to admit, though, it’s kind of reassuring.” He hummed his response. “Not to mention, a _brilliant_ counterpoint in the inevitable argument with my dad. _You’re too young to date seriously_ ,” she started in her truly spectacular impression of Ron Weasley. “Dad,” she said in her own voice, “you and mum got married at 19. _Yes, but he’s a Malfoy._ But Da-ad we’re soulmates. Boom! Lions. Extra Gryffindor. Argument done. Let’s go get treacle tart.”

Scorpius barked a laugh, “Obviously. Will have to keep that one tucked away. Secret weapon, that.”

“He won’t know what hit him. He’ll freeze up like he’s been petrified.”

“I think he’ll recover. At least, long enough to plot my murder.”

“Pish posh!” She stood up in a flurry, yanking uselessly at his hand. “I was being serious about the treacle tart though. I’m _famished_.” He complied and she started dragging him down the hall.

“Didn’t we eat before Defence..?”

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Switched Rose's career path from Potions Master to Curse Breaker. No, don't ask me why, I haven't the first clue.*

In 1978, during the first Hogsmeade visit of the New Year, Lily Evans met Euphemia Potter.

 

In 2019, two weeks after graduation, Rose Weasley met Astoria Malfoy.

 

In 1978, Lily Evans was so anxious she thought she might puke. Unfortunately, James didn’t seem to understand this. His mum was great, he said, but this really didn’t do much to assuage her fears. Lily wasn’t worried about not liking Mrs. Potter, she was worried about Mrs. Potter not liking _her_. It would have been fine if James was the only one being unhelpful. Unfortunately, Marlene and the others didn’t see the problem. _Lily_ was great, they said, absolutely wonderful and there was no way Mrs. Potter wouldn’t like her. Furthermore, the Potters were wealthy, they came from the upper echelons of wizarding society. The Evans family was a working class muggle family, and Lily didn’t have the first clue how she was supposed to behave. It helped that the tea shop they were going to meet at wasn’t terribly fancy, but it was definitely the nicest place in Hogsmeade. And in a time of James-related crisis, there was really only one place to go.

“Lily, Lily, Lily—”

“Damn it Sirius! Be—serious!”

Her flustered and unwilling pun prompted the three boys in front of her to burst into hoots and guffaws, rolling on the floor of their dormitory as they did so. Lily scowled and looked heavenward, hoping to find some patience.

“Guys! I need help!”

“Lily,” Remus said, wiping at his eyes, “you really don’t need to worry. Mrs. Potter is—”

“ _Great_. I bloody well know that! But I don’t know what to wear, I don’t know how to act. Do I shake her hand? Do I hug her? Does she do the cheek kissing thing? Am I supposed to eat a full meal or go light? Do I offer to pay or not mention it? Is there more than one fork? What do we talk about? What if she asks me about getting married and having children? I want a career! Is that offensive? Does she work? No, she’s old right, so probably not?” By that point, she had started to pace, arms flailing as she talked, asking far more questions than anyone could answer. Peter, Sirius, and Remus sat in their respective places on the floor, braced up on elbows, heads moving side to side in time with her pacing. It was an impressive spiel, they all thought individually, that she could worry about so much. But it was too much when she started to tug at her hair, and Sirius jumped to his feet to grab her wrists.

“Whoa there Evans, let’s just—” he maneuvered her to sit on Remus’ bed since it was nearest. He accio’d a chair over, turning it backwards to sit and lean on the chairback. “All right, listen up. First things first, Euphemia is a classy lady, and she doesn’t give a niffler’s hairy arse about all that blood purity rot. Only two things she’s looking for in a girl for Jamie: smart and keeps ‘im line.”

“And you know this how?”

He shrugged broadly, “We talk.” Behind him, Remus and Peter were moving off the floor to occupy the bed next to her.

“It’s true,” Remus agreed. “They have tea.”

Sirius nodded smugly, “She’s the best. So you’re both of those things and don’t need to worry about that.” He slapped the top of the chair, “Second things second, and this is easy too, wear a dress with tights and a sweater. Cute but sensible shoes. If your feet hurt you’ll be angry the whole time and make that weird little grimace—Oh, look Moony, she’s doing it right now!”

“Padfoot, now it is not the time.”

“Right. Blue dress. That one with the white lace on the bodice? That dove gray cardigan you’ve got, black tights and those black shoes with the wing tips. The oxford flats.”

“How the hell do you know my wardrobe?”

He waved her off, “Braid your hair. Cute, clean cut, sensible-looking, but also a little innocent. You’ll look like a little baby fairy.”

“You always look pretty, Lily,” Peter said reassuringly.

“Third things third, Euphemia will _definitely_ hug you. And if anyone is kissing cheeks, it’s her kissing yours. She’s like a granny, don’t worry about returning the gesture. And you’re going to a tea shop in ruddy Hogsmeade, not _La Perle de Sang_ in wizarding Paris! Merlin’s saggy tits. Just be your normal, cheerful self, and she’ll love you.”

“Really?” she asked quietly.

“Really,” the boys intoned.

She bit her lip, “Maybe—could you guys come with us?” she asked weakly, looking around at all of them. Their brows shot straight up. “It’s just that it’s so much pressure! And since my family is a bunch of prats who hate us…” She fell back against the bed miserably, covering her face with her hands, “I don’t want to mess this up.”

The three Marauders, without Lily’s seeing, exchanged a series of looks and expressions as they silently discussed the issue at hand. Sirius was in favor. Remus was decidedly against. Peter was indifferent and would go along with whatever they decided. The main concern seemed to be James’ reaction to their presence. He didn’t mind sharing his mum most times, since she’d always wanted a bunch of kids but was only able to have James. But this was _Lily_ , and James was never willing to share time with Lily. Sirius claimed that they were helping. Remus contended that it wasn’t helpful if James had an aneurysm. But eventually, Sirius won out.

“We’ll go!” he chirped sunnily, clapping his hands together.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Peter added.

“But we are _not_ telling James,” Remus finished. “He’ll just have to find out when we show up.”

Lily bolted from her seated position to hug them each in turn, smacking kisses to their foreheads and thanking them profusely. They boys looked at each other with a dreary sort of contentment. They loved Lily like their own, and they absolutely did not understand her sister’s point of view. Anyone who didn’t love Lily Evans was an absolute idiot.

 

In 2019, Rose Weasley was so anxious that she thought she would puke. Unfortunately, Scorpius didn’t understand this. He just kept saying that his mum was _great_ and everything was going to be _great_. Her cousins didn’t seem to get it either because they all kept saying that obviously Mrs. Malfoy would love her because Rose was _great_. Lots of great people didn’t like each other all of the time. What if she thought Rose wasn’t a suitable choice for her son? So naturally, in a Scorpius-related crisis, Rose turned to the only people she could.

“ _Al_! Do try to be serious!” From where they were lounging on their stomachs on Rose’s bed, Donnie and Frank were snickering while Al was winding up his already flustered cousin.

“I can’t be Sirius! James is Sirius!”

“Albus Severus!”

“All right, all right, I’ll try to be Sirius, but I don’t see how…” he trailed off with a smirk as he settled more comfortably into his chair. Rose was glaring at him like Aunt Hermione glared at Uncle Ron and it was hilarious, if a little terrifying. But the boys were snickering, faces turning red from trying to hide it. “Right. But you really don’t need to get so worked up. Mrs. Malfoy is—”

“Bloody fucking _great_! I know! I’ve heard!”

“Okay, dial it back a notch, just trying to help.”

“I know,” she said miserably sinking onto her bed, “And I’m sorry. But we’re going to this really nice restaurant in _London_. Not Diagon. London. What do you even wear to a place like that? And when I meet her do I shake her hand? Do I hug her? She’s not going to kiss me is she? That’s so weird, I’m British, I don’t like that. And are we just having tea? Or should I get a full meal? Do I offer to pay for myself? Do I make Scorpius pay? Do I even bring it up at all? What if there’s more than two forks? What are we supposed to talk about? What if she’s expecting me to marry her son? What if she’s _not_ like _at all_? What if she has weird purity views? What if she doesn’t approve of me wanting to be a Curse Breaker? What if she doesn’t like Quidditch? What do we talk about if not breaking curses and Quidditch? What if there are weird wizarding customs I don’t know about? Think about it! Mum’s muggleborn and dad’s useless about that stuff! What if there are really old ones or stuff that only really rich wizards do? What if I accidentally offend her or if I bring up…”

Al watched as his cousin jumped from her mattress to pace as she ranted every single worry she had about meeting Astoria Malfoy. It was an exhaustive list, actually, and quite impressive. Though technically Al blamed Scorpius for this full-fledged neurosis in Rose; he should have introduced them long before they ever became a couple. Much less pressure. But Scorpius had wanted to put it off for as long as possible, to avoid his family for as long as possible. Donnie and Frank seemed more amused by her ranting than anything else; they were hex first ask questions later types, and Rose’s level of distress never entered their heads. They tracked her movements with their eyes, brows shot up along their foreheads as they kicked their feet listlessly. Then Rose started tugging at the ends of her hair, and Al had had it.

“Okay!” he jumped up from his seat, grabbing her forearms, and pulling her along so that she was sitting on his lap in the chair, arms crossed in front where she couldn’t pull any hair. Donnie and Frank watched them intently, chins in their hands. “Ro, listen, first things first, Ria’s a pretty cool broad. She _doesn’t care_ about the blood status stuff.”

 “Honestly, the Greengrasses are super chill about it. Pureblood but chill,” Frank tacked on.

“All right.”

“All right. Truthfully? The only thing she’s looking for in a girl for Scorpius is someone who makes him laugh and doesn’t let him take himself too seriously.”

“And how would you know that?”

“We talk sometimes.” She arched a brow. “What? Scorpius gets moody. And he’s always with the plants… That’s beside the point! It’s _true_.”

“They are very close,” Donnie chimed in. “Like two little schoolgirls with all their gossiping.”

“And more _importantly_ ,” Al evenly interrupted _,_ “you fulfill both of those requirements,” he squeezed her. “So just be your sassy, charming self and she’ll love you just like me and Scorp do.”

“You think?”

“Definitely,” the boys intoned.

“Yes,” Al said firmly. “Now. Clothes. This is easy. That white button up collarless blouse, high-waisted gray skirt, and those strappy taupe heels Lily has?”

She tried to turn and look at him, “How do you know my wardrobe so well?”

“I think you should wear your hair loose, curl it. Whenever you try to pull it back, it goes wonky. And minimal on the jewelry. Maybe that little gold necklace you got from Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey?  The rune for _magic_ one?” She admitted that it was a decent sounding outfit, and he was definitely right about her hair.

“But you always look pretty, Rose,” Donnie added, “So I wouldn’t stress too much.”

“Next thing, Mrs. Malfoy’s not much for hugging. She’ll shake your hand, but there’s no need to worry about the kissing thing. She can be aloof, but she’s really very nice.”

“But I don’t recommend flirting with her,” Frank informed her with feigned gravity as Donnie nodded.

“Never would have guessed,” Rose answered, rolling her eyes.

“As for the wizarding customs…Scorpius is really flaky about that kind of thing. He forgets to remind us of stuff occasionally. Mr. Malfoy pays a lot of attention to it, but he’s head of the family since Scorpius’ grandfather is…well…he’s not really around much. Mrs. Malfoy doesn’t really notice though. Scorpius says it’s because she was Ravenclaw and she thinks a lot of that stuff is mental.”

“But—?”

He waved her off, “Honestly, truly, seriously, Ro, she’s not going to do anything to purposely embarrass you and Scorpius isn’t going to notice anything unless you’re acting barmy.” Donnie and Frank offered their agreement, nodding furiously.

“I suppose—Do you—? Do you think you could come with us?”

“With you? To lunch with Mrs. Malfoy?”

She dropped her head back against his shoulder, “It’ll be so much easier with you guys there, and you can tell me if I’m being stupid. And you can start conversation if it stops or gets weird.”

“It won’t get weird.”

“It could!”

He paused. Over her shoulder, Al made eye contact with his friends. Rose was picking at the hem of her jumper, and so wasn’t aware of their silent, animated, conversation. Frank was all for it, Al was decidedly against. Frank felt bed, especially since he remembered his first meeting with the Malfoys, ad wanted to help. Al was adamant that she needed to learn to hold her own with them, and she wouldn’t get Astoria’s approval if they were all there distracting her. Donnie was ambivalent, willing to agree to whatever they decided. Frank won out.

“Okay. Look, we’ll ask Scorpius. And if he’s okay with it, then yeah we’ll go.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“I haven’t seen Astoria in age, I’m happy to go.”

“But if you ask him then he’ll know I’m worried,” Rose said, moving forward so she look more directly at Al.

“He knows that anyway. And you can’t exactly just add chairs at Ibiza.”

“How do you know where we’re going?”

Al looked around at her completely affronted, “It’s Ria’s favorite restaurant—Rose, I told you, we _talk_.”

*

In 1978, James Potter was anxiously tugging Lily Evans through the Hogsmeade streets to get to Howl’s Tea Shop at the end of the main road. They were still early, having a quarter of an hour before they were supposed to meet Mrs. Potter, but Lily was dragging her feet and James was trying not to throw a snit about it. He knew that Lily was really nervous about meeting his mum, but he really didn’t understand it. He’d met her family already, made an arse of himself and fucked it up royally. Though, he still contended that her sister’s husband was a whale of an idiot with no sense of humor, there was a huge knot in his chest that often suggested that maybe he needed to work on that whole “I revert to childish arrogance when nervous” bit. To be fair, he was really only trying to have a conversation about the bloody motorcar. The exchange rate between muggle and wizarding money was stupidly confusing.

At any rate, Lily was bounds and leaps better as a human being than James. And if she said or did something muggle-ish, his mum would understand. The situations weren’t really comparable. Besides, it was tea with _just_ his mum, not the whole sodding family at a family event.

He pulled her along the path up to the shop, and ushered her in so they could find a decent table. She spotted a relatively empty area in the back corner and rushed to get to it. Nerves did odd things to his girlfriend, he was finding. They sat and ordered, since James knew what his mum would want. Lily smiled at him for that, and James couldn’t help but notice that she looked a cry more put together than usual. Very pretty, but it was obvious to him that she’d made an effort. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d braided her hair that way, and she usually preferred her denims when they weren’t in uniform. James didn’t have much time to admire his smiling girlfriend because before the waitress could bring their tea things, her head shot up to look at the door. Seeing her pale, James whipped around to see his mum coming through the door, overdressed as usual and wrapped up in a thick cloak and hat. Good. Didn’t need her catching cold.

“Mum!” he called over the din, waving a hand to her. Euphemia Potter’s head swiveled in the direction of her son’s voice, but didn’t appear to see him. James immediately leapt up from his seat, striding over to her quickly and catching her up in a hug and a kiss. She chuckled delightedly at his unabashed affection, hands cupping his face as she looked him over. James just scowled and helped her with her cloak and hat, and led her back to the table. Lily stood up as they approached. In any other situation, he would have laughed at her grim expression. Looked like she was facing her mortal doom.

James quickly hung up his mother’s hat and cloak, and went to go stand next to Lily.

“Mum, this is Lily Evans. Lily, Euphemia Potter.”

*

In 2019, Scorpius was waiting in the living room of the house he and Rose shared with Al, Donnie, and Frank. Donnie was the only one home since his ministry position gave him regular hours. Frank was gone almost all of the time, travelling for Quidditch training with the Wasps. Al spent all of his time at the Institute revising and researching to become a History professor; there was no one swottier than Albus Potter when it came to historical fact. Rose wouldn’t begin her internship at Gringotts to train as a Curse Breaker for another few weeks, but Scorpius was already studying under Headmaster Longbottom for his herbology internship at Hogwarts. All this really meant was that their shared house was typically empty. The boys were meeting them at the restaurant, coming from their respective work places. Frank was under strict order to shower thoroughly.

Thankfully, the maddening silence was broken by Rose’s distracted entrance into the room. She looked pretty as ever, though it was obvious she’d made an effort. Her hair was down in neat curls, a style impractical for her, but nonetheless extremely attractive. She looked prim and put together like the women Donnie worked with now, almost like she’d stepped out of one of those fashion rags. Scoripus didn’t even know that kind of thing was on her radar. He could smell the umbrella flower perfume he’d made for her; a scent she typically reserved for special occasions since there was so little of it. But more prominent was her expression; she’d emerged looking ready for battle. That Weasley-Potter arrogance lining her face; the one that said she and everyone around her assumed her superiority and ought to act accordingly. It was a version of Rose he’d seen less and less of as they progressed through school. That cocky, impervious attitude had faded to something altogether softer and more humble. Still, Scorpius couldn’t deny that she looked dead sexy wearing it now.

“Are you ready?” she asked him airily. Rolling his eyes infinitesimally, Scorpius strode over to her from his spot on the couch and pulled her into a thorough kiss. She responded easily, like she always did, swaying into him. With her heels, they were nearly even in height.

“If we’re late,” she murmured around his kiss, “to dinner with your mother because you can’t keep your hands to yourself,” Scorpius chuckled, squeezing her sides, “I will personally lock you in some abandoned vault in Gringotts.” He pressed one last kiss to her lips and then pulled back to smirk at her. He noticed that not a spot of her makeup was smudged even a little, and suspected that her hair was about the same. Bloody hell, she wasn’t playing around.

They flooed over to Ibiza with ten minutes to their reservation. The maître di dutifully informed them that they were the last of their party to arrive, much to Scorpius’ amusement and Rose’s irritation. As a rule, Astoria Malfoy arrived everywhere twenty minutes early. As another rule, Scorpius always gave the lads a time thirty minutes before the real, scheduled time so they wouldn’t come running in late and embarrassing everyone. As they were led back to the table, Scorpius reminded Rose of this, telling her to relax, and everything would be just fine.

As he expected, Al and Frank flanked Mrs. Malfoy, with Donnie just to Al’s left. The lads were all laughing and talking over each other while his mum watched them with raised brows and a slight smirk. Scorpius always suspected that she’d wanted more children, but couldn’t have them. He was heart-wrenchingly grateful for his friends’ affection for his mum. Mrs. Malfoy caught sight of him and Rose first.

“Darling,” she said, straightening in her seat and raising her voice just enough to be polite. Scorpius smiled brightly at his mother before shooting Rose one last glance. The Weasley-Potter implacability was still firmly in place. He led her to the far side of the table where his mother was rising from her seat.

“Mum, this is Rose Weasley. Ro, my mother, Mrs. Astoria Malfoy.”

*

In 1978, Lily could have cried when Euphemia Potter pulled her in for a hug, then stood back to cup her cheeks like she was an adorable child that needed to be admired. Not even her own mum was so warm with her anymore, especially not after her last fight with Petunia. Mrs. Potter was beaming at her with a fond glint in her eyes, and Lily found herself melting with affection for the older woman.

“So this is what’s got my son all in a tizzy and behaving himself,” Mrs. Potter said cheekily. “Nice to finally meet the young lady he’s not stopped babbling about for the past few years.”

“ _Mum_ ,” James whined from next to her. Lily didn’t bother to check that he was blushing before she laughed at the conspiratorial look on his mum’s face.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Potter.”

“Mimi,” the woman told her firmly before James helped her into her seat. “The boys call me Euphemia because they think it’s funny, but policing that lot is rather like wearing a hat in a hurricane. Useless, and you’ll still get soaked anyway.” Lily bit back her chuckle, knowing that she meant Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Mrs. Potter shot her son a triumphant look, “Seems you’ve finally found yourself a sensible girl.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he deadpanned, eyes flashing over to sparkle at Lily who blushed and looked away to find their waitress. Mother and son picked up the conversation easily, discussing family updates and his schoolwork. Mrs. Potter apologized on behalf of her husband to Lily, apparently there were business matters that took him abroad and he wasn’t able to rearrange his schedule. Lily brushed the apology off, though James looked slightly perturbed. It wasn’t as if they’d expected Mr. Potter to be in attendance, but clearly there were unresolved issues there. Right as she reached for James’ hand out of sympathy, Lily spotted Sirius in the window, just behind James and Mrs. Potter’s heads. Sirius was smiling like a manic toddler with a sugar high, giving her double thumbs up, and Lily made a face, shaking her head slightly and hoping that he understood. Call it off, call it off. Sirius started to frown and pout, but just when Lily thought he was going to give up and piss off, his expression became all together diabolical, brimming with mischief. Before Lily could react, he had darted out of view, probably to rally the troops.

“Oh bugger,” she mumbled, slumping into her seat. James and Mrs. Potter shot her twin, confused looks. Although James looked more annoyed about her cursing in front of his mother, Mrs. Potter seemed to be more concerned about her sudden wilting. She was just about to suggest that the younger woman freshen her tea and eat a little something when she was cut off by a ruckus from the main entrance.

“I don’t see ‘em!”

“I _told_ you, Wormtail, they’re in the back to the _left_. You stupid—!”

“That’s quite enough, I see them right there, come along.”

James was out of his seat in the blink of a moment, crowding into Sirius’ space, clearly arguing. Remus and Peter bypassed them easily and went to kiss Mrs. Potter’s cheeks simultaneously. They pulled up chairs, budging Lily closer to Mrs. Potter, and flanking them so that James and Sirius would be forced to sit across from them. While Peter helped himself to the food, Remus instantly started regaling Mrs. Potter with updates about everything going on, including how his parents were faring.

“That reminds me, dear, Monty whipped up another batch of that cream for your scars. I’ll send it to you as soon as I can.”

“Much obliged, Euphemia. That stuff works wonders for blokes like me.”

“Of course, dear.” She then started quizzing him on how he was eating and sleeping, checking with Peter for confirmation. Peter contradicted no less than three boldfaced lies and shouted to James and Sirius for back up. Abruptly cutting off James’ arguments, Sirius trotted over to kiss his pseudo-mother loudly on the cheek, telling her that she looked absolutely splendid and that if she ever wanted to toss old Monty over, he would gladly raise James as his own. Lily blanched but Mrs. Potter just laughed and told him to sit down already before she cuffed him. As he flung himself into the chair opposite, James sat stiffly down next to him. Glaring at both Remus and Peter in turn. Lily took a deep breath and tried to relax. She desperately avoided James’ glances, choosing instead to engage Mrs. Potter in small talk about her husband’s work.

The next few minutes passed without too much fuss. The boys were loud and giggly, telling Lily all kinds of stories about the absent Mr. Potter and their favorite visits to Potter Manor. Even James seemed less irate as they talked. Mrs. Potter took the whole thing in stride, making sure their plates were full and censuring them for their bad language. She teased and prodded into their personal lives, referencing things and events that obviously embarrassed them, though Lily was at a loss to explain why. Eventually, Peter picked a fight with James and Sirius about one Quidditch team or another, pulling in Remus’ opinion since he knew all the statistics. This left the two women sitting quietly alone in the midst of their jabbering.

“I am going to take a wild stab,” Mrs. Potter said slowly and under her breath, “that their coming here was a planned thing?” Lily winced and took a sip of her tea to steady herself. It must have seemed like a great insult to the Potter matriarch that Lily couldn’t handle meeting her alone.

“There was a discussion…” she admitted noncommittally, not wanting to make eye contact and see the judgement there.

“I also assume that you attempted to call it off and they barreled through the door anyway?” Lily nearly sobbed in her humiliation. By Godric, she understood their shenanigans better than most. How _mortifying_ to be read so easily so early on. Beside her, Mrs. Potter was chuckling.

“Don’t despair, dearie,” she said warmly. “I could have told you that it’s a terrible idea to engage their services in a moment of weakness.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Lily told her miserably, deciding that she was safer to look at right then instead of James.  Her whole person sank in relief when she saw Mrs. Potter’s amusement, her heart clenching fondly when she realized James had his mother’s eyes. The woman was chuckling fondly.

“You’ll soon learn that the less those four know, the better, or else you’ll _always_ be playing catch up.”

“I am starting to realize that, yes.”

“Truth be told,” Mrs. Potter said, leaning in, “I am quite glad that you’ve taken to them so well. Not everyone is so understanding of their bond. And I love those three like they’re my own.”

Lily blushed at the praise, “They’re a package deal. I think Sirius would have fed me to the squid if he thought I was keeping James from them.”

Mrs. Potter hummed, taking a sip of her tea to cover her words, “You would think, of course. But Peter’s the one to watch out for.” Lily’s brow furrowed and she couldn’t help but flick her gaze over to where Peter was arguing hotly with James. “I’ve known that boy for years, and he’s deadly attached to my son. I’m not at all certain what will become of him once they’re separated.” Her tone was placid, but ominous, and Lily couldn’t help but think there was a wide disparity between what she knew of Peter and Mrs. Potter’s insight. She tore her gaze back to Mrs. Potter who watched her with a knowing gaze, far too knowing for someone she’d just met. Almost like she was sizing Lily up, testing her in some way that the girl couldn’t comprehend.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lily answered evenly. But their quiet conversation had attracted James’ attention, and now he was looking at them suspiciously.

“And just what are you two discussing so secretly?” he demanded with a quizzical brow. Lily stiffened at his tone, temper flaring.

“I was informing your mother of how ridiculous you looked sitting in Madame Puddifoot’s,” she snipped, covering her smile with her tea. Around her the boys hooted in reminiscent laughter, and apparently Sirius kept photographs of the day on him at all times, just in case. As he passed them over to Mrs. Potter and regaled her with their genius plan and how brilliantly Lily had played it off, with Remus and Peter occasionally interjecting, James locked gazes with Lily, grinning reluctantly. She shot him teasing looks whenever the boys talked about how particularly _daft_ he’d been, but James kept quiet, shaking his head. Mrs. Potter seemed to think it was a splendid joke and laughed at her son as loudly as the rest.

“Well my boy,” she panted breathlessly between giggles, “That’s what you get for telling everyone you’re _unprankable_.”

James threw his head back laughing.

*

In 2019, Rose pushed ahead of Scorpius just so, her hand meeting Mrs. Malfoy’s halfway. They shook hands firmly and warmly, eyes meeting. A shock of recognition shot through Rose at the amused but self-possessed expression of Mrs. Malfoy’s face. It was so reminiscent of Scorpius’ own expression that her heart clenched. Everything about Mrs. Malfoys looks and coloring were different from her son’s, but the way she held herself, the small mannerisms, the warm gloss in her eyes were all very pronounced in Scorpius.

“So this is what’s been pulling my son out of those dreary greenhouses,” she mused with a twinkle in her eye and a smirk for her son. “I have to say I’m impressed already.”

Rose interrupted before Scorpius could protest, “Thank you, but I have to say your observation is a gross exaggeration. I’d have to vanish the plants away before I could pull him out of any greenhouse. So I usually just go in with him.” Again, Scorpius was about to protest, but his mother tossed her head and laughed. She released Rose’s hand and looked over at Al, who was watching their exchange with no small amount of glee.

“You were absolutely right, Albus, she is funny.”

“Cheers, Ria,” he answered evenly. Rose flushed a little, moving aside so Scorpius could greet his mother.

“If you’re all quite finished maligning me…” he grumbled, but they just laughed again. Instead of arguing, he ushered Rose over to an empty seat, pulling her chair out for her. Rose raised her brows at him humorously. He was always courteous, but often drew the line at strict formalities. Clearly the action was for his mother’s benefit. He wrinkled his nose at her and took the seat one over. Folding her napkin in her lap, Rose lifted her gaze to the boys surrounding Mrs. Malfoy.

“I assume you lot have been telling her horrid lies about me?” There were immediate protests, both Donnie and Frank insisting that they would never, ever do her the disservice.

“Because _of course_ your temper is unconditionally gentle. I’ve never met a calmer person in my life.”

“Definitely,” Donnie agreed, nodding with feigned sincerity, “The gentlest. _So_ sedate and not at all a cheat at Quidditch.”

“Absolutely,” Al chimed in with a knowledgeable pout. “Very focused and quiet. Not a single impulsive bone in your body. No thirst for danger, very mild mannered.”

“Very well put, Al,” Donnie said as Frank added, “Couldn’t agree more.”

The table dropped to silence as the boys pretended to look off into the middle distance, Scorpius rubbed his temple, and Rose and Mrs. Malfoy locked gazes with amused interest. Mrs. Malfoy didn’t seem at all off put by her son’s friends’ behavior or that they’d raised their voices above the calm din of the restaurant, attracting more attention than necessary. With a sigh, Rose picked up her menu and rued the day she was born.

“Well,” she breathed heavily, “Long as we’ve got that cleared up.” The three of them laughed uproariously, making even Mrs. Malfoy chuckle quietly. Scorpius’ shoulders shook with some combination of amusement and irritation that Rose couldn’t decipher. She just reached over and rubbed circles on his back in consolation. The boys picked up the conversation from there, informing the newly arrived what they had actually been discussing. Al and Scorpius made food recommendations to the others, seeing as they spent more time there than anyone else. And conversation maintained a steady flow. It helped greatly that the boys were always chattering, generating new topics as they went along, prompting Rose for input or interjecting protests when she teased too much. Being around them made Rose feel normal enough to relax, and so she didn’t even flinch when Scorpius’ hand went to her thigh under the table. Eventually their food was brought out and the talking dwindled to a more sedate and sporadic pace.

“Rose,” Mrs. Malfoy said finally, wiping her mouth with the napkin. “I’ve been told that you will start training to be a Curse Breaker soon?” Internally, Rose winced at the slight inflection of Mrs. Malfoy’s voice. That was a familiar reaction; people were confused by her career choice, thinking that she would be much better suited to business or politics like her parents. But Rose hated the idea of an office; she hated the idea of mundane paperwork and never getting to see anything properly. She wanted travel and freedom and movement. But she could also understand why Mrs. Malfoy would be concerned.

She cleared her throat, “Erm, yes, I start at Gringotts in two weeks, as a matter of fact.”

“That must be quite exciting, though I believe somewhat difficult, considering you’re a woman. Goblins can be so…disobliging in that regard.”

“Mother…” Scorpius started to protest, a twinge of warning in his voice. Not bothering to glare at him for the interruption, Rose reached a hand over to his forearm, placating, and smiled thinly at his mother who had quirked a brow at him. It was obvious that Scorpius didn’t often disagree with his mother, and typically didn’t vocalize dissent or criticism, if her slight surprise was anything to go by. The boys were bouncing their gazes between Rose and Mrs. Malfoy, like they were watching some kind of vaudeville show where anything could happen.

“You’re not wrong,” Rose agreed easily, “I’ve noticed on more than one occasion that they have a strong gender bias and will most likely do their best to give the more challenging tasks to my male colleagues. However, I’m quite certain that I’ll be able to stifle that impulse in no time.” She released Scorpius’ arm and squared herself back to her meal, “And besides, I doubt there’s a profession I’m better suited for, and I’ll have plenty of guidance and advice from my Uncle Bill. He’s worked for Gringotts for years now and was very helpful in securing my internship there.”

“Bill Weasley?” Mrs. Malfoy asked curiously.

Rose lifted her gaze warily, “Yes, he’s my father’s eldest brother.”

“He’s a charming man,” Mrs. Malfoy noted mildly, “I’ve met him on several occasions professionally, and if he’s supportive, then I’m sure you’ll have no trouble at all. He keeps his employers on a tight leash, you know.”

But Rose froze, “Beg pardon, professionally?” Donnie, Al, and Frank let out simultaneous snorts at the positively derisive glare Mrs. Malfoy sent her son.

“I see he _hasn’t_ told you,” Mrs. Malfoy snipped. Rose looked wildly at Scorpius for explanation, but none was forthcoming. He was staring stubbornly at Al who was far too entertained by this exercise than was normal or healthy. Donnie and Frank were laughing into their food as quietly as possible, trying to stay unnoticed. So Rose was forced to look back at Mrs. Malfoy, whose expression had lost some of its edge.

“Much to my husband’s and his family’s grievous disappointment and disapproval, I work as an Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries.” Rose’s jaw nearly dropped, but she managed to hold it together. Mrs. Malfoy’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, quite,” she chuckled. “As you can see, my son disapproves as well.”

“I do _not_ disapprove, mother,” he grumbled, stabbing at his pasta. “I just think you should make better use of your vacation time, as your superiors _advise you to_.” This was very clearly a sore subject between mother and son, seeing as they glared at one another before dropping that point all together.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Rose said in mild accusation. Scorpius tossed his hands, scowling uselessly at her for reviving the topic.

“You never asked,” he said pointedly, then gestured at his mother, “And we’re not supposed to tell everyone. It does require some confidentiality, you know.” Astoria Malfoy snorted into her water glass, earning a glower from her son.

“Well I think it’s brilliant,” Rose said finally, nodding at Mrs. Malfoy who nodded back. Scorpius started to protest, but both his mother and girlfriend scowled at him and he immediately shut up. The others thought this to be hilarious.

“Why did I agree to this again?” Scorpius asked woefully, looking to Rose for a little sympathy. Rose curved toward him, brushing imaginary lint from his shoulder, straightening his collar and such. Touching him was helping to settle her nerves and her own embarrassment. She couldn’t believe that she always assumed Mrs. Malfoy was a housewife, never questioning it. Scorpius watched her with a soft look that was probably stupidly obvious to everyone else, but Rose couldn’t make herself care or worry over it too much. She dropped her hand to his, pulled it into her lap, and turned her attention back to Mrs. Malfoy.

“I was sorry to hear that Mr. Malfoy couldn’t make it. Scorpius mentioned that he was out of the country?” At the mention of her husband, Mrs. Malfoy perked up and her spiteful mirth faded to something softer and fond. She spared a glance for her son, who was probably the spitting image of his father and smiled at Rose.

“Yes, he’s in South Korea, actually. In Daegu. Unfortunately, it’s a routine trip scheduled around his partners’ calendars. He’d had it planned months ago and couldn’t rearrange anything. These Asian wizards can be particularly rigid, and poor Draco’s been trying to make a go of it there for years,” she explained. “He’s not scheduled to return for another couple of weeks, but I know he was very disappointed to miss meeting you.”

“I’m sure there will be plenty more occasions,” Rose answered firmly, locking gazes with Mrs. Malfoy for a moment before looking at Scorpius. He was watching her intently and she flushed under his scrutiny. She was busy enough stamping down arousal that she missed Mrs. Malfoy’s knowing glance in their direction, and the way she and Al made gleeful faces at each other. Slyly, without making eye contact, Donnie and Mrs. Malfoy fist bumped and Frank raised his glass to her in salute.

“Ria,” Al said loudly, breaking up the moment, “You’ll have to tell the Mister to bring me back a dangpa. Always wanted to try one out.”

“Ugh,” Frank groaned, “You and your obsession with muggle weapons.”

“I’ll have you know that the dangpa was crucial in the development of wand movement in Northeast Asia,” Al snipped back in all his swotty glory.

“Oh,” Donnie countered drolly, “You mean in a little peninsula that never garnered any traction in the world at large because the country split and Japan spent all of their time subduing magical uprisings?” This sparked and in depth debate that had the rest of them rolling their eyes and wishing for a quick death. The only person better versed in international wizarding politics than Al was Donnie, and they were always raring for a go with someone well-informed. With a heavy sigh, Scorpius draped an arm around the back of Rose’s chair, pushing his food around with his fork while his friends snorted and scowled at each other with all the disdain they could muster.

“It could be worse,” Rose offered quietly, under her breath. Scorpius hummed, not at all convinced. “Well,” she said, “someone might have brought up race relations in the United States…”

“Don’t even get me started!” Al was shouting now.

“Oh _here we go_ ,” Donnie seethed sarcastically, tossing his napkin onto the table.

“You should hear them with father,” Scorpius refuted miserably. The whole thing was shut down by a rather cool Mrs. Malfoy.

“ _Enough_ ,” she said firmly, holding up her hands. Both boys silenced immediately. “You two will prattle on for hours about absolute nonsense if we left you to it. And I’m under the impression that I was invited here to get to know my son’s girlfriend, _not_ to hear about your opinions on the minutia of Korean-Asian politics.”

They were immediately recalcitrant. “Sorry Ria,” Al offered as Donnie apologized, “My fault, really.”

She sniffed, squaring back up to the table as her eyes widened in annoyance. “Now,” she folded her hands on the table, looking at a beet red Rose who was trying to contain her delight. “Rose, I know a good deal about your family from Albus. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you have only the one brother?”

“Hugo,” Rose confirmed with a nod. “He’s in his seventh year at Hogwarts.”

“And what are his plans for after graduation? Or does he know yet?” They settled easily into a conversation about Hugo’s plans to start up the American division of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Probably somewhere along the East coast; he wanted New York, but the real estate there was skyrocketing and he wanted to spend most of his budget on marketing. Her father was trying to sort through all of the importation laws and the drug and safety regulations regarding their products, but hopefully most of it would be resolved within the year. And besides, they couldn’t prevent someone from having a friend or relative purchase the product abroad to ship it back to America right under the nose of customs. There were stricter laws about corporate liability in America, too, but her Uncle George was convinced that the products were mild enough to pass muster.

“It sounds like he has his whole life plotted out for him,” Mrs. Malfoy noted, sounding a little impressed. Rose and Al shot each other a sardonic glance; people were always saying that about the Weasley-Potters. The truth was that they were so decisive in their goals because they _didn’t_ want their parents to be overly involved in the process. A moment’s hesitation or doubt often meant a lot of overbearing and well-meaning advice, coupled with visits from relatives who would offer the same.

“Well,” Rose answered, “Hugo’s been involved in the family business since he was young. It’s what he’s good at.”

“He’s ridiculously clever, mother,” Scorpius added, “You’d like him.”

Mrs. Malfoy hummed, “And your mother,” she started slowly, “I hear that she is taking on a bill regarding rights for house elves?” Silence fell again while they waited for Rose’s answer. Though, Al looked ready to jump in at the slightest provocation.

“That should hardly surprise anyone,” Rose opined flatly, “She has been adamant in her stance on that subject since she was in school.”

“Aunt Hermione _is_ rather tenacious when it comes to house elves,” Al followed up. “She’s given my dad a hell of a time for keeping Kreacher on.”

“Yes,” Rose countered, “but Uncle Harry freed Kreacher not long after the war ended. He chooses to stay and your mum pays him.” Al just shook his head when Rose turned back to Mrs. Malfoy, “My mother will argue to her last breath that house elves deserve rights and freedoms just as any other living creature. This latest legislation is just a small step in that direction, and I can almost guarantee that she has another proposal both for if it passes or if it doesn’t.” Mrs. Malfoy smirked, arching a brow at Rose’s underlying hostility. People ridiculing her mother for her heated defense of magical creatures, among other things, was something that Rose was very much used to. And even though she often thought her mother had lost her mind, she would never allow another person to say so without reprimand. Even if it was her boyfriend’s mother and they were meeting for the first time. Hermione Granger-Weasley was a force to be reckoned with, not the butt of somebody’s joke, and her daughter would be the first in line to hex you for it.

“Well,” Mrs. Malfoy said in response, “I, for one, will be vastly amused when she _does_ succeed.” She looked pointedly at Scorpius. “Would you believe that your father doesn’t know a _single_ household charm?” She laughed. “My family never kept elves and I think it’s ridiculous that we do, even if I am rather attached to them. Don’t tell your father, but I’ve been paying them under the table _for years_. And when those bills of your mother’s finally do pass, I think it’ll be a grand joke to let Mr. Malfoy flounder a bit before we hire them back.”

“Mum!” Scorpius laughed reproachfully.

“What?” she scowled at her son. “ _I’m_ not cleaning up after him just because _he_ doesn’t know how.” By then the boys were all laughing and even Rose was trying to tamp down a giggle. The idea of Mr. Malfoy, former Death Eater and international business tycoon, washing up or folding his socks was just a little too much. “Don’t be so serious, Scorpius. Your father occasionally _needs_ a good reminder that he’s been a pampered little brat most of his life. Why on earth do you think he married me?”

Her son looked absolutely exasperated at her teasing, but Rose couldn’t help but believe she was absolutely right, and that Scorpius took after his father in more ways than one. Scorpius was prone to bouts of sullenness and melancholy. He was in his head far too often and built his problems up to cosmological enormity which usually resulted in a panic attack or a good sulk. The issue with their matching patronuses being one solid example. Rose examined him thoughtfully for a moment while Frank and Donnie ribbed Al for living a princely life because Kreacher was _obsessed_ with him. She thought about all the issues and obstacles that were likely to come up within the next few months. He still hadn’t met either of her parents, and her father was quite the conundrum. And then there would be problems with their schedules; she would have to travel a lot soon and they hadn’t really discussed how to handle that. The press was still a concern, if only a minor one. Eventually, someone would notice that a Malfoy and a Weasley were romantically involved, and that would cause a maelstrom for a while. Rose wondered for a moment how her parents had handled things like that, how _Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny_ had handled it. Mrs. Malfoy must have been a saint to endure whatever the press had to say about her relationship with Mr. Malfoy; that couldn’t have been pretty no matter how you wanted to spin it. Her examination finally caught Scorpius’ attention and his face fell to one of concern.

“You all right?” he mouthed at her. Rose nodded slightly, not really responding, but still looking. He pinched his face, but didn’t comment. He just slid his arm around her lower back, squeezing at her hip in reassurance. Echoes of old conversations rang in her ears, sharp comments that had crushed her heart to bits at the time were now resounding through her brain. _I don’t want to make you choose…I’m terrified…_ She couldn’t say why it was striking her right then, right when they were together and she was meeting his mum and their whole life stretched out attractively before them. But the past crept up on her, made her spine ache from trying to remain intact. She felt Scorpius’ hand at her side and his mother’s knowing gaze on her, and she realized that she needed a moment.

*

In 1978, Lily and the Marauders made their warm goodbyes to Mrs. Potter, promising to write and visit soon. She had a bright smile and a fierce hug for Lily, that made James grin smugly at his friends who could only roll their eyes. It wasn’t like they were rooting _against_ the two women getting along. They merely found it hilarious that James was fixated on the off chance that they might not. And had taken the piss for at least a week for it. Giving his mother one last kiss before she went through the floo, James slung an arm around Lily’s shoulders and they walked back to the castle. The lads were walking ahead of them, playing some stupid game where they shot sparks at each other’s feet and the victim had to dance out of range or get shocked.

“They’re idiots,” Lily grumbled into his shoulder with her arms around his waist.

“Yes,” James agreed readily, “But they’re _my_ idiots.”

She sighed, “Then I suppose they can stay.”

“Greatly appreciated.”

“You owe me so much.”

“Ha! False. I know you told them about meeting mum. I just haven’t decided who came up with the idea.” She came to a stop, slinging James around so that he was standing in front of her, waist to waist.

“It was mine, so don’t be mad at them.”

“ _Yours_?” he asked heatedly. “You didn’t exactly look thrilled to see them.”

She bobbled her head, “I tried to call it off. Plans changed.”

“Ah,” he said squinting over her head, “That makes more sense.”

Lily laughed and squeezed him to her, “But seriously, don’t be mad. I felt better having them there, it took the pressure off.” James grinned down at her bemusedly.

“They can’t tag along for _everything_ ,” he teased her haughtily.

She bit back a smile at his suggestiveness, “Well _no_ ,” she agreed slowly, sidling in as his arms wound around her upper back. “But they did help.” She leaned her head back against the crook of his arm, gazing up at him with her heart in her eyes. Her eyes really were stupidly green, and James knew right then that he was going to have a hippogriff amount of trouble denying her anything.

“I could’ve told you they would’ve double crossed you for entertainment.”

She sighed, leaning more heavily into him, “Your mum said the same thing. I underestimated their diabolical need to embarrass the hell out of anyone they can for a laugh.”

“All in good fun.”

“Hmmm,” she smiled, “I’m sure.” Her eyes drifted lower to his lips, which he licked instinctively, and he watched her cheeks flush at the corners.

“She really liked you,” he murmured lowly, “Could tell.”

“Yeah?” Lily whispered. James nodded, not taking his eyes off of hers. “Liked her too,” she managed to grit out before James captured her lips with his. He pressed and nipped and opened her up easily, conducting a thorough exploration of her mouth. He felt her moan through their chest contact, and nearly whimpered himself when she gripped his waist more tightly. James brought one hand to cradle the back of her head, angling her to get better access, and seal their mouths more firmly together. His other hand was about to make its way to more interesting places when they were rudely interrupted by jeers from the others.

“Oi lovebirds! Break it up!”

“No shagging on the street!”

“For shame, James Fleamont, _for shame_!” The pair broke apart, simultaneously flipping them the V before they dove back in to keep kissing.

*

In 2019, Rose quickly excused herself from the table to use the loo, and walked a little unsteadily toward that safe haven. Her head was swimming, and she was feeling somewhat nauseous. The loo was a cool respite and Rose quickly rushed to the sink. She ran the water, shoving her hands under the faucet and washing them rhythmically trying to focus on something that wasn’t Scorpius-related. It was a soothing enough practice that she found herself entranced by it.

“Rose?” Mrs. Malfoy’s cool voice came from the door. With a slight growl, Rose turned off the faucet and reached for a paper towel. Why on earth an entire country full of wizards and witches couldn’t figure out a more effective method of drying your hands, she could never understand. As she binned the towel, Mrs. Malfoy appeared behind her in the mirror. She leaned against the sink counter and contemplated Rose carefully.

“I had to all but body bind my son to keep him from running after you,” she said blandly. “I thought it might be best if we had a moment alone. Woman to woman.”

“Mrs. Malfoy—” The woman cut her off with a scowl, showing Rose the most expressiveness that she’d seen from the older woman all evening.

“ _Please_ , Rose, call me Ria, or Astoria if you must, but Mrs. Malfoy is my mother-in-law, and I pray to many a higher power that’s where our similarities end.”

“Ria, then,” Rose continued, chagrined. “I’m sorry I—No I’m not,” she sighed, mirroring Mrs. Malfoy’s posture with a hip perched against the sink. “I just needed a moment to myself. This is a little overwhelming.” Mrs. Malfoy—Ria, she reminded herself—arched a perfectly trimmed brow, her lips pursing in amusement. “Nope, no,” Rose crossed her arms, “overwhelming doesn’t even really cover it. I thought the boys being here would help, but—”

“Uh-hmm, I thought that was the case. When Scorpius said his friends were coming along I thought he’d lost his mind.”

Rose stared at the floor, “They know you better.” Her gaze lifted to meet Ria’s levelly. “I was nervous. Am nervous.”

“I can see that. And yet you’re being quite frank with me now. Away from Scorpius.”

Rose bit her lip and let herself be scrutinized by Ria Malfoy’s dark brown eyes. She was a beautiful woman, positively regal looking with her sculpted cheekbones, pointed chin, and her dark hair brushed back in voluminous waves. She’d yet to truly wrinkle, but there were lines around her eyes that betrayed a happy life.

“There are times,” Rose confessed softly, “when I am absolutely terrified of how much I love your son.” Ria lifted her chin, not a little surprised apparently. “I just feel that—There are things that I love, my family, the future of my career, my autonomy…But when I look at him, when he looks at me like he does, this _thing_ in me swells up, and I know— _I know_ —that I would do anything, give up anything, for him. To keep him. And that scares me,” she finished on a whisper. Ria Malfoy let out a sympathetic sigh, reaching for Rose’s arm to stroke it. She led the younger woman to the settee near the toilet stalls to sit down.

“That—” Ria broke off, “I know it’s painful. And I can’t tell you that it’s normal per se…or particularly healthy, but—” she paused, “It will fade. A little. Into the back of your mind. Never really and truly goes away, but you manage.”

“Is that—is that how you feel about Mr. Malfoy?” she asked weakly.

“Yes,” she admitted on a chuckle, “And let me tell you, Draco is not an easy man to love. Especially not like that. But when you feel that way and you know deep down that person feels the same way about you…It’s worth a little pain, Rose.”

“How do I—? I mean, how did you know?”

Ria smiled and settled herself better on the settee. “I don’t suppose this is a conversation you’ve had with your mother?”

Rose sighed, knocking her head back against the wall, “No. All of that is tied up in the war, and asking her about it…there’s a lot involved and she’s not exactly forthcoming.”

“I see. Well I’m sure she would tell you a similar story. One moment you’re keyed up and slightly irritated and you have no idea why. Then you’re arguing about nothing and you reach this moment when you think everything’s about to fall apart. Inexplicably, you’re absolutely terrifyingly dead certain that it’s finished…” she trailed off, smiling to herself. “In my case, we were arguing about his parents. I thought that I should meet them, and he was very insistent that I should not.”

“Scorpius has said something similar about them.”

“As he should,” Ria said gravely. “During that argument, I came to realize a few things. First, I was willing to sacrifice my comfort and well-being to make him happy. Second, that he was determined not to let me do so. And thirdly, that Draco was convinced that if I saw what he’d been, what his father had made him, that he would lose me.”

“And _that’s_ when you knew he loved you?”

“I knew that he cared enough about me to be vulnerable, to expose those ugly parts of himself to me. You haven’t met my husband, Rose, but let me tell you, _proud_? That doesn’t begin to cover it. There was a time when he thought he was untouchable, beyond reproach. For him to even admit to me that he felt weak or bad…It was nothing short of a miracle.”

“Most days I think I know him better than he knows himself. And others, he predicts me. It drives me mad.”

“And it will continue to do so,” Ria informed her gravely. “It may not mean much coming from me, but Scorpius cares about you a great deal. I won’t speak on his behalf, but I should think that you have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not _him_ ,” she groaned, “It’s everything _else_. I’m scared of how much we could lose.”

Mrs. Malfoy smiled tightly at her and patted her hand in sympathy, “That’s always the risk, dear. Until the end, that’s the risk. But trust me when I tell you, and I know your mother would tell you just the same, it’s worth it. The risk and the pain and the fear is worth what you can hold even for just a moment.”

“You don’t think we’re too young?” she whispered fearfully, not sure that she wanted an answer. But Ria barked out a laugh.

“Rose, I think you can say you’re too young until you’re blue in the face, but it doesn’t change a bloody thing, does it?”

Rose looked down at her hands, smiling to herself, “No. No it doesn’t.”

They chatted for a little while longer, mostly about Scorpius, and a little about being a woman in their chosen career paths. It was easier to talk to her without the boys there, actually, since she wasn’t censoring her reactions. They were far too easily entertained, Rose decided, and Ria was brilliant. She quickly concluded that Ria and her mum would get along famously. She could already tell that Mrs. Malfoy was impressed with Mrs. Granger-Weasley, and that was just by reputation. Eventually, they decided to go back because they’d obviously made a mistake leaving the four boys alone for too long. Ria insisted that they would start to get _ideas_ , and since it was her favorite restaurant, she’d rather not experience the full consequences of those _ideas_.

She was right. As their table came into view, they found that the four of them were in a heated argument. Not that Rose could discern what it was. Years and years in their company would never begin to give her insight into their relationship together. But then she caught a better view of Scorpius’ profile, that stupidly beautiful profile she’d been waking up to since they left Hogwarts. That face and those bones and those features which were so dear to her that she thought her chest would cave in on itself for the sheer weight of it. Rose saw his gaze swerve, saw his head turn as he caught sight of her, locking onto her with an alarming recognition. His expression, tight with concern, melted into something smoother and softer, a gorgeous smile that made her belly flip. Rose didn’t notice that she’d picked up her pace, didn’t think about anything other than the fact that the closer she got to him, the quicker the panic sloughed from her. And soon he was out of his chair to greet her, and she reached for him for a hard, thorough kiss to the sound of their friends whistling and laughing at them. Ria Malfoy passed them with a prim shake of her head and a slight quirk of her lips, not betraying her affection and joy in the least.

When Rose finally pulled away from Scorpius, he looked completely gobsmacked and dazed. It was a little too much to look at him looking at her like that, so Rose shoved her face in her chest, feeling his arms wrap around her soothingly.

“What the bloody hell did you say to her?” he asked his mother over her head. Rose shook with laughter, a bit giddy, but didn’t try to interrupt.

“Just say: Thank you, mother,” Ria deadpanned starchily from her seat next to Al, who was grinning like a madman.

“Thank you, mother,” Scorpius parroted back weakly, not entirely sure what the ever loving hell was going on, but completely content to keep Rose close regardless. His hands were rubbing her back comfortingly, trying to gently shake her from her daze. But she didn’t open her eyes until he bent his head to get a better look at her. Misty gray met blue. And Rose was sure that she could get lost in those gray eyes for a good, long time with no regret.

“Take her home, darling,” Ria said gently while he attempted to puzzle her out. “The boys and I can handle everything here.”

The two of them hardly heard her say it, and Scorpius only barely managed to spare her a glance before he was shepherding Rose out of the dining room to the floo station. Rose figured he would make apologies later, but she really couldn’t have cared less. She honestly felt that Ria understood what she was feeling and didn’t blame her a whit. They got through the floo no trouble and Scorpius manhandled her into their room (which they unwaveringly swore to their parents was actually just Scorpius’ room because Rose had a room down the hall) and pulled her into the armchair that, on the first day, she’d transfigured into one that looked and felt exactly like the one in the Gryffindor common room. Apparently it was highly coveted by many of the Weasley-Potters, since Al recognized it immediately. He swept her up in his arms and cradled her against him, and she immediately shoved her face into the crook of his neck and snaked her arms around him. He had one arm around her waist, another under her legs and his lips were pressed to her forehead.

“You wanna talk about it?” he whispered against her skin. But Rose just shook her head and sighed, clenching her fingers in his shirt. “Are you mad?” She shook her head again. “Are you sad?” She shook her head. “So you’re happy?” he probed, confused. Then she was giggling, her whole body shaking from the effort. She tilted her head back to smile up at him.

“I love you,” she said gently.

A line formed between his brows as he examined her.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “And I love you…” But he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like he was baffled by her reaction to that simple statement. For him, it was just another basic tenant of his life: My name is Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. I want to be a Herbologist. I love Rose Minerva Weasley. These things were true and real and essential. And even if they were only seventeen, even if it didn’t work out how they wanted, for at least that day, that moment, Rose had everything she needed.

*

In October 1981, as Lily Potter put her son, Harry, to bed with James right by her side, she felt exactly the same.              

 


End file.
